Out of the Past, Into the Future
by Mystic Lady Fae
Summary: 200 years after Adrianna was frozen to save her life, she wakes in a new era of technology and space travel. Here, as she struggles to fit in, she meets the mysterious John Harrison, as well as the crew of the Starship Enterprise . Can her new friends protect her from John/Khan's dangerous interest? Post Into Darkness.
1. Out of Time, Out of Place

Disclaimer: I own nothing _**Star Trek**_-related…though I might consider the idea of beaming Kirk, Spock, Khan, and the actors who play them to my house, once I manage to construct my own transporter. Until then, nothing is mine except original characters.

AN: Yes, I have found my way to the _**Star Trek**_ universe! After all, Benedict Cumberbatch is hot, he's got a sexy voice, and I couldn't resist writing a story that involves him. So, here is my story, and I should warn everyone that this will be a bit darker than my previous works, so keep that in mind as you read. There will be high points, but also several lower ones, so be prepared.

Also, I'll admit that I borrowed a few things from _**Into Darkness**_ and a _Star Trek: The Next Generation_ episode, so they obviously did it first; I just gave it my own spin. Oh, and Adrianna's nickname is pronounced "Ree-ah," for those who are curious.

Anyway, please enjoy, and don't forget to review. Thanks!

**Chapter 1: Out of Time, Out of Place:**

"Honey, you don't look so good."

It was the last thing my mother said to me, right before I blacked out and woke up somewhere completely different than where I'd been.

At the time, it'd been the honest truth: I hadn't been feeling well for the past few weeks, and had simply chalked it up to being either under too much stress, or that I was in desperate need of a vacation from work. Dad had suggested a trip to the doctor, but I hadn't thought it necessary; after all, feeling rundown didn't require a trip to the doctor, did it?

Then I'd passed out in my parents' living room, and when I woke up, I was in the hospital. A bunch of doctors were around me, looking worried, but in the half-conscious haze I was in, I couldn't make out half of what they were saying. Words like "frozen," "experimental," and "hope" drifted through to my brain, but long before they finished their talk, I blacked out again.

* * *

"She's coming to," whispered a voice near my head. "The procedure worked, Doctor!"

Procedure? What procedure? Had I been sick enough that doctors had had to operate on me for some reason? There was no way my dad would have allowed that unless I'd been dangerously ill.

Unfortunately, my mouth was drier than a desert, so I couldn't ask what was going on. I tried swallowing, but no moisture came, and instead, I gave a dry cough. I heard someone call out for water, and a cup was pressed to my lips, the cool liquid running blissfully down my throat as I drank the cup dry. Another was called for, and after I downed that one, I felt fine enough to open my eyes and see what was going on.

Like before, there were all doctors around me, eyes focused on my face. There was concern there, as well as an expression that clearly said they were pleased I'd come out of my 'procedure' alive and in once piece.

"Adrianna Drake?" one of the male doctors asked, as though confirming who I was. I nodded, which seemed to please him. "Good; at least you know who you are."

Another one stepped up to the bed, a gentle smile on her face. "The world has been waiting a long time for you to wake up, Miss Drake," she said.

I looked at her in confusion. What did she mean by that?

The female doctor, a pretty African-American woman with wavy hair pulled up into a bun at the back of her head, put a hand on mine. "Miss Drake, do you remember what day it is?"

I did, sort of; I had a feeling I might be off a bit, if I'd been unconscious for so long, but I decided to give them what I figured might be the general date. The other doctors exchanged looks, like they knew I'd be off, but from their expressions, I'd apparently missed the mark by a whole lot.

"Miss Drake, I'm Doctor Lydia Parks," the African-American woman said. "What I'm going to say next will come as a huge shock to you, so I need you to try and keep an open mind and remain calm."

Oh, no, that was always a bad sign.

What felt like a million different thoughts and scenarios flooded my brain, and most of them were bad. Was I dying? Or had something happened to me that could require life-threatening surgery of some kind? Or maybe I needed a unique treatment that could possibly kill me if they didn't administer it in the right doses?

"Now, there's no need to panic," Dr. Parks rushed to reassure me. "We just need to give you some information that might be overwhelming for you."

I took a deep breath. "Well, then, you'll probably want to get a sedative of some kind ready, in case I freak out," I said, only half joking.

To my surprise, Dr. Parks reached out and put her hand on mine; I didn't think doctors did that sort of thing normally. "Miss Drake, you've been in a coma and preserved in a cryogenic freezing chamber for the last two hundred years."

* * *

After that little revelation, things got a bit blurry for me. I barely remembered yelling, having hysterics, and feeling something being forced into my veins by the doctors, something that promptly put me to sleep.

When I woke up again, Dr. Parks was there, a look of sympathy on her face as she looked at the wall behind my left shoulder. I risked following her line of sight and felt my eyes bug out at the sight that was there. My vital signs were up on a large display on the wall, and there seemed to be an extremely accurate image of my beating heart on the screen as well.

"Wow, you guys must have the best technology in the country," I said, watching her press a few touch-screen icons.

"Actually, this is all standard equipment these days," Dr. Parks said, smiling kindly at me. I realized then that she was probably in her late-twenties or early-thirties, very much close to my own age. "Remember what I said about your situation."

I rolled my eyes at her. "Yeah, that I've been in a coma for over two centuries," I sarcastically replied. "I still don't buy it. I'm sure my family put you up to this; Dad's always been a joker."

Actually, I was lying –half of me totally believed what I'd been told by the doctors, but the other half was in complete denial about it. I honestly wanted to believe that I was the butt of a practical joke of my dad's making, because the alternative was unthinkable –the thought of my entire family being long dead, and that I had no one to turn to, was terrifying.

The part of me that believed the doctors was full of questions, one of which was whether or not I had any very distantly related family alive in this century. Others included whether or not my brother had had kids, and if everyone I'd ever known and loved lived long, happy lives while I'd been in my coma.

The other part flatly refused to think any of this was real, and that at any moment, my dad would come in and say, "Almost got you!"

Dr. Parks must have seen my internal conflict on my face, because she gave me a soft smile as she took a chair beside the bed. "Look around the room," she gently told me. "What do you see?"

I did as she asked. I had to admit, the room was pretty bland, like the typical hospital room, but it was also kind of chic –there were white tables and chairs, lamps, and vases with white flowers in them. "It looks more like a hotel room, only with me in a hospital bed in it," I answered.

"Computer, open blinds," she said aloud. "Brace yourself, Adrianna."

Sure enough, I think my heart stopped when I saw the view outside. There was greenery around the hospital, but it wasn't the trees or the immaculately kept gardens that drew and kept my attention. No, it was the incredible city in the distance that did that. The buildings were unbelievably tall, and even though I was sure I was at least several miles away, they were still impressive.

Movement in the sky above the city caught my eye. "Dr. Parks, what's that?" I asked, pointing with a hand that was still hooked up to an IV tube. Too bad _that_ part of medicine hadn't changed in centuries –I hated needles, and the thought of one being in my hand made me move my arm _very _carefully.

"Shuttle craft," she said. "And you can call me Lydia. I've been assigned to help you adapt to this new world, so we might as well get to know each other on a first-name basis."

I stared at her. "What's a shuttle craft?" I asked. "Is that the new version of a plane?"

She looked a little puzzled, but recovered quickly as something occurred to her. "Oh, you mean airplanes. No, those went out of style a long time ago -we have much faster means of transportation these days.

"But to answer your question, shuttle crafts travel to and from one city to another. They also fly out to the stations orbiting the earth, and to the Starships that are docked there. I imagine a ship has come in and they'll be returning so that they can report their findings to Starfleet."

My breath caught. "Starships?" I breathed, "As in space travel? Seriously?"

Lydia smiled and ordered the blinds to close. "Yes, space travel. But before we get that far, I need to tell you exactly what happened while you were asleep…"

* * *

The story of what had happened after that day at my folks' home left my head spinning for days, the information refusing to fully sink in. Even with the sedatives they gave me at night (and occasionally during the day), I had trouble sleeping with all of that floating around in my mind.

Apparently I'd had a tumor or growth of some kind in my brain, which at the time had been inoperable –that's why I hadn't felt well for a while, and why I'd fainted. From the records that my new doctors had found in some kind of medical database, the doctors of my era had informed my parents of my condition, and apparently told them that my death was imminent.

"At the time, there was no form of treatment, and operating was impossible," Lydia told me. "You were kept in an induced coma while they did what they could to treat you, but you were most certainly going to die."

Well, I guess I could have dealt with it, like most people with terminal diseases and conditions had to at the time. Death scared me, but if there'd been nothing I could do about it, then I'd have done my best to accept it and spend whatever time I'd had left with my family.

Unfortunately, I hadn't gotten the chance.

My dad apparently hadn't wanted to accept that I was dying. He'd always been overprotective of me, and had demanded other options from the doctors. Most had said there wasn't one, but then one newly-licensed doctor had made a suggestion: freezing me until a cure or treatment could be found.

Cryogenic freezing had still been in its infancy when I'd been struck down sick, and not many people had bought into it, as everyone had thought it the newest 'fad' of the medical community. Some had been all for it, of course, but mostly as a last-ditch effort to avoid death as long as possible, and to keep the hope that they'd live a full life in a not-too-distant future. When the idea had first been announced on television and the commercials peddling the idea had appeared, Dad and I had joked about the "human popsicles," the ones who had believed and bought into the procedure for either themselves or sick loved ones.

But apparently Dad had put jokes aside in an effort to save me. He'd gone straight out to the nearest cryogenic company and told them to put me on ice. There was no record of how much he'd paid for them to get it done, but I'd be willing to bet that he'd mortgaged the house a dozen times over to do it.

So into a tube I went, in the hope that I'd be helped someday.

But years went by, and still nothing happened that could help me.

And sadly, that's when things began to get complicated for me and my parents. Because it was only a few years after I was frozen that the business that had me went out of business.

"It was a complicated situation," Lydia explained. "The company wanted to wake you up and let the doctors try what they could to help you, but your parents wouldn't have it. They'd paid for you to stay frozen until a cure could be found, and were determined for the company to keep its side of the agreement they'd all signed."

Both sides went to court, and after weeks of testimony, the judge sided with my parents, as well as dozens of other families who wanted their family members preserved until they could be helped. The judge said the contracts were legally binding, and the company had to find a way to keep up their side of it. The company reluctantly agreed, and we stayed where we were.

Some were lucky –their illnesses were treatable a few years after the trial, and were thawed out so that they could go about their lives. Others had family members who changed their minds, and asked that their loved ones be freed to live out the rest of their short lives with family. In a few rare cases, the chambers malfunctioned, and those unlucky ones were woken up against their will in order to die before a cure had been found.

Unfortunately, the company's finances gradually diminished to the point where those still frozen had to be stored elsewhere, under another company's roof and terms, with much of our families' money funneling in to finance the whole thing.

"Sadly, several years later, the new facility that you and the remaining patients were stored in also closed down, and so they put you all in a warehouse until they could sort out their affairs," Lydia explained.

I guess I shouldn't have been surprised that, like the company before it, this one didn't go 'all the way' when it came to caring for us. As time went by and they tried to settle their affairs, stacks of paperwork got lost, tossed away, or mishandled. Most tubes went to a medical facility or two for further observation, but there were three that were unaccounted for –not that the storage facility told anyone that. They'd simply stated that every tube had been sent to reliable hospitals and that they hoped, in time, we would all be woken up when a cure was found.

"Your parents never knew that your chamber was considered lost. They never suspected that the company had accidentally shipped you to a facility in the middle of nowhere, and that the underground area would be sealed off when the building collapsed five years later."

Since no one had "officially" known that anything was down in the building's basement, they hadn't tried to get past the flooring to get to it. They hadn't known that two of the three chambers had been damaged, and that the people in those tubes had died. Mine had been the only one to make it through the building's collapse.

"The others died painlessly," Lydia rushed to assure me. "I won't bore you with the medical or scientific details, but they died swiftly and without waking up."

Well, yay for them, then. That had left me to lay in a frozen coma, my parents dying and the world changing all around me while I slept. The only reason I'd even been found was because the energy signature (whatever _that_ was) had touched off someone's computer while they were planning to build over the abandoned site, and after days of searching for the cause of the signature, they finally found me, safe and sound, asleep.

"They brought you here for us to examine, and it was simple enough to treat your illness and remove the growth in your brain," Lydia concluded, dark eyes focused on me as she studied my face to try and guess what I was feeling and thinking. "Once you were treated, we brought you out of your coma, and here you are."

Yup, here I was; the oldest person on the planet. Did the _Guinness Book of World Records_ still exist, because I sure qualified for it!

"Adrianna?" Lydia quietly asked, reaching to squeeze my hand. "Are you alright?"

"Ria," I replied, still lost in the details she'd given me. "My friends and family used to call me Ria."

She smiled sympathetically. "Ria, I'm sure they'd be thrilled to know that you were able to be saved from your condition and revived."

At the mention of my family, I felt tears well up in my eyes. "Could you tell me if they…lived long lives or not?" I asked, choking up a little at the end of my question.

To my surprise, Lydia nodded. "Your parents lived for another twenty years after you went under, and from the few articles I found about them in the public archives, they fully believed you would be cured. Your brother married late in life, and had several children –he lived to nearly ninety. I traced his family down through the years, and his descendants are alive today, if you'd like to get in contact with them?"

Did I want that? Did I want to see my brother's many-times-great grandchildren? Would they be happy to see me, or would they think me a freak and reject me? And if they did accept me, what would we do after we got past the introductions? I was centuries behind the times, and would only be a burden to them as I tried to adjust to the world.

So I shook my head. "I couldn't do that to them. An ancient family member popping up unannounced after so long, and right on their doorstep? No, I don't think so."

I was alone. What was the point in having survived this long, only to find that my parents were gone, as was everyone I had known and loved?

"You'll be fine, Ria," Lydia said firmly, a hand reaching out to force me to look at her. "Lots of other people have gone through the loss of friends and family, and they do their absolute best to go on with their lives. It will be hard and sometimes you will cry, but you will make new friends in this century. In fact, you've already made one –you've got me."

At those words, I couldn't help it –I broke down and cried.

* * *

Two days later, after my eyes had turned red and I'd drained my tear ducts dry, I managed to claw my way back to the world. After eating and rehydrating myself, I lay helplessly in bed and let Lydia, my assigned friend, teacher and doctor, explain the modern world's workings to me.

"So there's no such thing as money?" I asked in disbelief as she explained about the economy.

She laughed. "Not on Earth. We eliminated the need for money many years ago, after we developed warp engines." She saw the confused look on my face. "Warp engines are what power and propel Starfleet's and the Federation's starships across the galaxy."

I wanted to ask what Starfleet and the Federation were, but held off and focused on my original question. "So, if there's no money, then how do people get stuff?"

She explained that everyone had what they needed, from food, shelter, clothes, and anything else they required. "By eliminating the wants and need to possess things and money, it liberated us to focus on bettering ourselves. We choose to work at our jobs because we want to do them and love doing it, and because we like the satisfaction it brings us in doing something productive and useful."

She also explained that there were planets that used currencies, and the Federation _did_ offer a monetary arrangement of sorts for people to use on those worlds, but as long as I was here on Earth, I had the feeling that I'd be set for life, and have to do nothing to earn it. It was unbelievable!

'_But if I sat around and did nothing, I'd go crazy_,' I admitted to myself. '_I need to be useful, or do something with my life, otherwise I'd lose it_.'

I'd had a job back in my old life, but I'd hated it, and only done it for the paycheck and benefits. Now that money and medicine wasn't a problem I had to worry about, I had to find a way to 'belong' and fit into this century. But given how behind I was with technology and history, that was going to take a _huge_ amount of studying on my part to do all that.

But I had a friend now, and as soon as I was ready to get out of bed and get active, I was going to be all over whatever form the modern libraries had taken.

"We'll get started on technology tomorrow," Lydia promised, dark eyes sparkling as she left me to rest. "Make sure you get plenty of sleep, because you're in for a lot of work when you wake up!"

I sighed. I wasn't afraid of hard work, but I had a feeling that my adjusting to this new century was going to take a lot longer than Lydia thought it would.

* * *

AN: Well, there's chapter one! I have to admit to knowing nothing about _Star Trek_ beyond the two most recent films, a few original movies that I've seen, and what I remember from _The Next Generation_, so I will kindly ask that readers please _not_ bombard me with corrections about things I've written in this chapter and future ones. I'm mostly going off of the recent films, and I'll do my best to be accurate with details, but please bear in mind that it'd be impossible for me to actively research the entire _Star Trek_ universe to the point of being fully informed about every tiny detail.

Anyway, please be kind and review? Thanks!


	2. Facing Facts and Reality

Disclaimer: I own nothing Star Trek-related…though I might consider the idea of beaming Kirk, Spock, Khan, and the actors who play them to my house, once I manage to construct my own transporter. Until then, nothing is mine except original characters.

AN: A bit of warning: this chapter might cause a few tears to flow, so keep a few tissues handy, just in case. Other than that, please enjoy and review. Thank you.

**Chapter 2: Facing Facts & Reality:**

That short burst of optimism I'd displayed to Lydia didn't last very long. As soon as it fully hit me how much history, technology, culture, and all around information I had to catch up on, I immediately felt my will-power caving in.

Not that Lydia let me give up, of course –she was determined to help me, and flatly told everyone that she would stay by my side until I was deemed fit enough to leave the hospital. And since her father was head of the hospital, her words carried a lot of weight, which was convenient for the both of us.

Even though I probably could have tried handling things on my own, Lydia turned out to be a godsend. With her constantly lat my side, everyone began to stop wondering whether or not I was going to fall into a deep depression and throw myself off the hospital roof –an idea that some might think overly dramatic, but it _was_ one that had crossed my mind, and only Lydia's friendship and stubborn refusal to let me feel "down" managed to get me through my days of tears and sleepless nights.

Today, nearly two weeks after I'd been woken by the doctors, I was finally given permission to leave my room and wander the grounds. Since I'd managed to cry myself out and was able to sleep on my own with only a sedative, the hospital heads-of-staff decided that I was becoming emotionally and mentally stable enough to venture out and get some exercise and fresh air.

Much to my relief, the staff had chosen to let Lydia and I wander around the grounds alone together so that we could talk and gradually let me fully process where and when I was. However, I had the distinct feeling that there would be more than a dozen eyes watching us, just to make sure I was okay and that I wouldn't try and make a break for it. Not that I could have, of course –thanks to my being immobile for so long, my legs weren't fully functional yet, so I wasn't able to move very far or fast unless I was in a wheelchair.

"So, I guess you guys haven't improved upon the good old wheelchair," I couldn't help commenting to Lydia as she rolled me outside.

She chuckled. "No, we did that. The wheelchair is mostly for those who only need to use it temporarily –anyone who is permanently paralyzed gets a hover-chair."

Well, that certainly showed me. "That makes sense," I grudgingly admitted as Lydia laughed at my discomfort. Not that I held it against her, as I showed with a playful pout at her amusement.

While she pushed me along a nice smooth pathway, I looked at my surroundings. In the afternoon sunlight, I could still see the city in the distance, flying vehicles traveling to and from it with ease. "You know, I never asked which city that was," I realized, completely surprised that I hadn't thought of it before.

"It's San Francisco," she said. "I know you're probably surprised, since according to your file, you're not from the area in the first place."

She was right; I was actually from a completely different state than California. "Let me guess: I was shuffled around a lot while I was frozen," I sarcastically replied, growing more bitter and upset with each bit of information I thought about.

The chair stopped moving, and Lydia came to kneel in front of me. "I know you're angry and upset, Ria," she said, putting a hand on my arm to give it a gentle squeeze, "But try and believe that while you'll miss your friends and family, you'll make new ones here."

I knew she was trying to comfort me, but deep inside, my heart screamed that my parents and brother _had_ to be alive, even after all these centuries. I knew it was a mixture of denial and futile hope, but when those two things were combined, it tended to make people believe even the craziest things.

"Come on," Lydia said as she took her spot behind my chair. "Let me show you the gardens."

* * *

The greenery outside did help a bit, though the hover-cars I saw pulling up to the front of the hospital tended to snap me back to the fact that this wasn't my time. Still, it was nice to see that transportation had come so far, a fact I mentioned to Lydia on the way back to my room.

"Wait until you see a transporter," she commented as we entered the hospital's main corridor.

I turned to look at her. "What's a transporter?"

When she explained the concept of taking a person apart, molecule by molecule and reassembling it somewhere else, I shivered. I did _not_ like the idea that I might have bits and pieces of me scattered across who-knows-where if something didn't go right with _that_ process! Images of my head being put on backwards or one of my organs being put _outside_ of my body filled my head before I put a firm stop to them.

"Well, now that you've gotten a bit of exercise for your body, it's time to get going on your mind," Lydia declared, placing a clear piece of plastic the size of my head in my hands. "This computer has access to all documents in the public records. You're welcome to start looking up whatever you like today, but tomorrow we start with your education so that you can start catching up."

I looked at the plastic sheet. It had several white lines framing it and along the center, but it really didn't look like it could be a computer –it was too light, too thin, and the center was completely see-through. But most importantly, I had no idea how to use it. Sitting there with the 'computer' in my hands, I must have looked uncomfortable and completely clueless.

Smiling, Lydia reached out and turned the computer on with a touch of her hand. The back of the computer went dark and white in center of the half facing me, showing a colorful screen with all sorts of different icons for me to mess with. "There, now you can play with it. You can either tell the computer what you're looking for, or type it into the screen."

Oh! Well, that seemed simple enough. "Thanks," I whispered, tentatively reaching out to put my fingers to the screen.

Before I could get started, though, Lydia reached out to block my view with her hand. "Don't push it too much," she warned. "I don't want you having a mental or emotional breakdown because of something you learned. Take it slow; one step at a time, okay?"

I didn't want to take it slow, but I knew better than to argue –the last thing I wanted was to have my newly-given freedoms taken away because I'd pushed myself too hard. "Okay."

And then I was alone, the computer glowing softly as it awaited my command or request.

* * *

Anyone would think that, with so much information and such technology at my fingertips, I'd have immediately dived in, my brain drinking in everything that this century's public records could give me. The fact that it had so easily been handed to me might have only made it that much more exciting and intoxicating to indulge in.

The problem was finding the right question to start off with. I had so many, and all of them seemed to be more important than the others, so finding the right one to kick-start the whole thing off was proving harder than I thought.

At last, a random thought popped into my head, and I decided to head off with that: San Francisco.

Typing the city into the computer, I watched as the entire history of the area filled the screen. I skipped past the years leading up to my own time, and went straight for what the area was like now. The information also included images and videos, which caught my attention. I saw a few pictures of space ships, and was about to begin a search on them, but stopped.

"Starfleet," I whispered out loud, almost against my will.

"Searching: Starfleet," the plastic computer replied, scaring the crap out of me.

"Jesus Christ," I gasped, almost dropping the damned thing.

"Still searching previous request," the computer told me. "Shall I cancel current search?"

"No!" I hurriedly replied, fingers griping my only source of information. "Keep searching for Starfleet information."

"Understood." A few seconds later, "Search completed."

The screen then filled with a huge amount of information, starting with the formation of Starfleet and its origins, as well as its link to some kind of Federation of Planets. It was all so incredible, I wouldn't have believed it if it weren't for the flying aircrafts I could see from my window going to-and-from the city.

"Those ships are actually taking people to space stations and space ships," I marveled, alternately looking out my window at the darkening horizon before turning back towards the computer in my hands. "Incredible."

I sat for hours, reading up on Starfleet, its history, its internal ranks and structures, the ships it had, and its allies from other worlds. I also had to marvel at how much it was like the armed forces from my own time, where everyone had a purpose and function on the starship.

'_If I can't find a job or occupation that I seem to like, Starfleet might be an option_.'

For a few minutes, I dreamed about flying through space, watching stars go by as the ship traveled among them. What would it be like, to walk on another planet and interact with other races and experience their cultures?

I got a full smack of reality right in the face, courtesy of my common sense. If Starfleet was anything like the armed forces back in my day, then there was no way I could join. I didn't have the determination, intelligence or the physical attributes they'd be looking for, and I was so far behind them that by the time I caught up, I'd probably be considered too old to enroll or enlist.

'_Guess it's the sidelines for me_,' I quietly sighed to myself. Oh, well.

"Miss Drake?" called a voice from my door. "I have your dinner here for you."

Gross, hospital food. Too bad that hadn't improved since my days, either.

As the nurse laid out my meal, she gave me an encouraging smile when saw that I was making use of the computer. "Studying already, huh? Good idea; there's a lot to catch up on."

Her tone was kind, not mocking, so I returned her smile with one of my own. "I don't suppose I could get something other than hospital food, could I?"

She laughed and shook her head. "Sorry, but you'll have to wait a few days. Once everyone is sure you're making a steady recovery, and that you're making progress in walking, they'll let you have anything you want." She winked. "As long as it's healthy, of course."

"Of course," I replied, rolling my eyes. "Thanks."

The nurse nodded and left me to finish my bland chicken breast, mashed potatoes and peas. I left the peas and went straight for the cup of custard on the platter. It wasn't Jell-O by any means, but it was still better than the food itself!

When I was finished with the tray, I pushed it aside and picked up my computer again. This time, I decided to do something a bit riskier: I was going to look up something very personal to me.

* * *

"Are you sure you want to do this, Ria?" Lydia asked for the tenth time today. "I think it might be too soon for you and too much for you to handle."

I looked out the window and sighed. "I _have_ to do this, Lydia," I told her. "It's the only way I can move on with my life. I need closure, and this is the only way I can get it."

It was her turn to sigh as the door opened and she moved to help me get out. I still couldn't walk fully on my own, but a cane was usually all I needed to get around. I knew she wasn't just helping me to walk, though –she was coming along for emotional support, too.

Together, the two of us trudged up the grassy hill, following the map glistening on the plastic computer screen in my hands. It had been easy, finding out where this place was –it was apparently a historical site, and a complete list of the site's occupants, as well as a detailed map, was publicly available. It was also open to those interested in history.

When the lights that were us reached our destination, they stopped glowing, fading to nothing as Lydia took the device and put it into her shoulder bag while she handed me the one that hung from her arm.

"I'll leave you to it," she said quietly. "Call if you need me."

Looking down, I swallowed hard, the bag in my arms suddenly feeling like a thousand pounds as I stared at the sight in front of me. It was difficult reading the words that were etched in the stones, but they were still legible.

With a grunt of pain, I managed the difficult task of getting to my knees, my hands rummaging around inside the bag for the precious cargo they held. I found what I was looking for easily enough, but doing what I had to with them took a few minutes of deep breathing and will-power.

Finally, I steeled myself and forced myself to do what I had come all this way to do.

"Hi, Mom," I whispered, pulling out the bouquet of white roses and gently setting them down on the level ground in front of the tombstone. "I brought some of your favorites."

Retrieving another bouquet, this one of yellow roses, I put them in front of the other stone. "Here you go, Daddy," I whispered, holding back tears. "I never knew your favorite flowers, so I took a guess. I hope you like them."

For several moments, things were quiet as I struggled to keep it together. Finally, when I felt composed enough to talk without breaking down, I spoke.

"Thank you both for trying to give me a second chance. I guess your wish did come true: I got treated for what was wrong with me. It just didn't happen when you thought it would."

I pressed a kiss to the fingertips of both hands and put them against the stones. They were worn and heavily blemished from centuries of rain, snow, sun, and whatever little bits of plant-life that had briefly taken root on them. The plants were gone, but I had to admit that the chips and cracks "gave them character," as Dad would have said.

"I'm going to miss you both _so much_," I quietly told them. "And even though this half kills me inside, I'm going to try and go on with my life, just like you would have wanted me to."

I closed my eyes. "I'm going to try and be okay."

Turning, I looked out from my spot on the hill to stare down at San Francisco. It was a shock, finding out that Mom and Dad had decided to retire here, so far from where we had lived together as a family. Still, I guess the weather would have been better for Mom's health, since arthritis had started settling in shortly before I'd been put under.

'_Either that, or maybe they'd somehow known that I was close by_.' It could have been that one of the last records of my location had placed me somewhere near San Francisco or someplace in California, and they'd simply followed as best they could.

My brother wasn't here, though, which hurt. He was in Washington D.C., of all places; close to his children and grandchildren, which was only fair. At least he'd managed to live a long life and start a long family line of his own.

'_Still, it's nice knowing that Mom and Dad are close by, in case I want to visit_.'

That idea was pushed aside quickly. There was no possible way I would come up here again, even if I would be staying in the city –the pain would be too much for me to handle. I couldn't stand looking at their tombstones, knowing that so many years had passed and that they'd never known what happened to me.

But now that I knew where they were, and had seen them with my own eyes, a sense of peace and closure sparked inside me. I didn't feel completely at ease, yet, but now that the spark had been lit, it was only a matter of time before I fully accepted it all. It might take years, but at least the process of healing inside had begun.

Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and smiled. Even without opening my eyes, I knew there wasn't a constant haze of smog hovering over the city, leaving my lungs able to enjoy the scent of the sea.

When I did open my eyes, I knew that the future was literally right in front of me. I could feel my parents' graves at my back, their centuries-old spirits silently given me strength.

It was time for me to move on, one slow step at a time.

* * *

AN: Review?


	3. Catching Up and Fitting In

Disclaimer: I own nothing _**Star Trek**_-related…though I might consider the idea of beaming Kirk, Spock, Khan, and the actors who play them to my house, once I manage to construct my own transporter. Until then, nothing is mine except original characters.

AN: Here's the next chapter! Sorry that I've been posting updates a bit later than I usually do –real life has been interfering, and won't let me get around to writing when I need or want to. Well, anyway, please enjoy, and don't forget to review. Thanks!

**Chapter 3: Catching Up and Fitting In:**

After two years of intense study, I _almost_ felt like a part of this world, even though, sometimes, things really were overwhelming for me.

Culture shock was one thing, but this was culture shock to the utmost extreme, and to me, the most steadfast and helpful thing in my life was my unofficial caretaker and friend, Dr. Lydia Parks.

Lydia was my rock to cling to. _Technically,_ I was independent and had no real need of a caretaker -after the hospital had released me, they allowed me to go out on my own and try to become part of the world. Lydia had been assigned to help me while I was in the hospital, but since the hospital had no real policies or rules regarding my kind of situation, when I'd been released, I was supposed to be on my own. The hospital had felt guilty about it, but in this, their hands were tied.

Stubborn woman that she was, Lydia wouldn't leave me hanging on my own –she was willing to stick her neck out so that she could assist me in every possible way, and I'd had a very hard time convincing her to keep her job at the hospital while I spent most of my time 'catching up' on the world.

But in spite of risking her full-time job, my new best friend (a role I gladly gifted her with and she happily accepted) had let me stay at her apartment until one could be found for me, and when a suitable place had become available, it was 'coincidentally' just down the hallway from hers. I'd given her a suspicious glance or two while I was moving in, but Lydia had simply gave me a sweet smile, one that hinted that I shouldn't ask any questions about the whole thing.

And because of our close proximity, Lydia was there to offer not only emotional support, but the information I needed in order to function in this world –which included the new economy system Earth now had.

* * *

From Lydia, I learned that money and the need to earn it had been eliminated, so everyone pretty much got whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted or needed it.

Needless to say, the one thing that seriously helped was that I wasn't required to work for money to support myself. Without needing to obtain finances through a job, I was able to focus entirely on catching up to the rest of the world and not have to split my time between earning a living and my studies.

Not that I would have been able to find a job, anyway, even if I wanted or needed one. I was so behind everyone else that the only place I could probably have found work was at an antique shop or a history museum, where I wasn't required to do much of anything besides stand behind a counter and greet visitors!

But even in the absence of a job, I was still able to obtain things that caught my eye, most of which were nostalgic and from my own time.

The outdoor markets scattered around the edge of San Francisco's city plazas and parks were one of my favorite places for these items, a thing reminiscent from my time. The market artists peddled homemade, imperfect and extremely unique things would have fit in perfectly in my century, and in the clear, open air of these marketplaces, I managed to find items that were deemed 'antiques' in this time period. Through persuasion, pleading, and the occasional trade of items that I had but didn't like or want, I managed to get the things I wanted. The stall owners hadn't completely understood why I wanted the items so badly, since most of them were worn out, broken, or in great condition but no longer functioning –and yet, they were kind enough to let me walk away with the items in my possession. When the stall keepers were that nice to me, I always made sure to be a frequent visitor.

Naturally, with all the 'archaic' items I acquired, my apartment probably looked like an antique shop –well, by this century's standards. I had modern things, of course, but to give my place a warmer feel, I had decorated my shelves with old bits of technology, art, books (one of the hardest things to find these days), some toys, and clutter that made my place more 'homey.' Even my clothes had a touch of 'eccentricity' to them, since I tended to mix the causal fashions that were popular outside the city with the chic, sleek looks of the city crowds. I got a few odd looks whenever I went out, but those quickly became shrugs as people went about their business.

Even though I still clung to my past, that didn't mean I didn't like the advancements that technology had made over the centuries. I had to admit that the flying or hover cars looked smooth to ride in, and the buildings of the city were as sleek and fashionable on the inside as they were out. Even the styles of clothing were interesting, ranging from as sleek and professional as the buildings in the city, to more casual, like jeans, leather jackets, and cotton T-shirts on the outskirts of town.

I even had a favorite tech gadget: the replicator, which was a device that seemed to produce food, clothes, and other objects out of nothing. Lydia had explained the technology to me (something about converting matter or energy, and some other scientific stuff), but since I'd never been good at science even in my day, it went completely over my head. I simply chalked it up to 'makes stuff out of nowhere and is awesome to use,' and left it at that.

Now, anyone from my time would have thought the replicator extremely cool, especially since it could make anything a person wanted. A food or beverage could be made at any temperature, and other objects could be designed through a computer and materialized exactly how you wanted it. Basically, it meant I could have a complete steak dinner prepared and served in seconds, without having to prep, cook, and plate it. Since I'd never liked cooking in the first place, I'd been thrilled when Lydia explained it to me, and used it constantly.

Technically, this meant that people didn't have to leave their homes for buying or obtaining food, nor did they have to work to earn a living, if they didn't want to. But even without money, people still did _want_ to work, and to feel as though they had done something productive during their day. I found this mixture of the new world and old ones fascinating; even without the need to earn a living, people felt the drive to be and to do something useful, so they went to work at a job that they found enjoyable, satisfying, and beneficial to the world.

I was also astonished that the economy of the present and production of goods of the past had intermixed. Although things could be replicated through a computer, there were actual items like clothes, shoes, and toys were still made by machines or hand-crafted, and could still be found at shops, stores, or the outdoor markets I frequented. Replicated items were still desired, of course, but with some things, the old ways were still around and appreciated.

As for socializing, people still wanted to go out to night clubs, bars, and events to be with their friends and coworkers –it was also nice eating out in the city, since it gave a person a sense of friendship and community. Mostly, though, I think people went out to enjoy something that wasn't replicated in precise portions, flavors and textures. With actual live cooks, flavors and textures varied in a dish, which was something computers couldn't produce.

As for Lydia and me, we occasionally got together at a local café, restaurant, or small coffee shop, most of which served actual food from actual grown plants and animals. It was nice to know that, even in this age of magically appearing food, there were still companies that produced real things, like burgers, alcohol, and chocolate. Some people claimed that replicated food tasted just as good as the "real" thing and thought cooking 'old-fashioned,', but I disagreed –some things, you just can't fake, no matter how accurate the technology, and I honestly felt they were missing out on a great experience when it came to eating food that was made by live hands.

During our trips out, Lydia tried to get me to open up and chat about anything and everything. She tried to focus on general things, like fashion, music, or even men, but with my limited exposure to the world, conversations got pretty awkward very quickly. I did my best to stay up-to-date on what was now 'modern,' but it was hard when I didn't know much about the world I had come to inhabit.

However, once I had the most basic technological items down and could begin to socialize and function in the city (in a way), Lydia tried to help me with my history lessons, so that I could fit into the world better.

* * *

History should have been no problem for me; I'd minored in it in college, so absorbing it ought to have been no trouble, as long as I focused on the most important events that'd occurred.

Unfortunately, after Earth's first warp drive flight, things got way too complicated. That single flight, which hadn't lasted long, had attracted the interest of a race called the Vulcans, and that had led to the formation of the United Federation of Planets and Starfleet. It was all incredibly interesting, to be sure, but after that, Earth's history began to mix with that of other worlds, which made learning events even more complicated.

The fact that aliens were allied with Earth still blew my mind. Because I spent most of my time studying, I didn't get out too much, so I didn't see a whole lot of the species that lived here on my home planet. But see them I did, and when I managed look at them without gawking, I made sure to give them a polite smile and nod whenever possible.

But because there were so many planets being explored by Starfleet, I decided to start at the beginning, with the very first race Earth had encounter: the Vulcans.

I'd seen a few of them, all on their way to Starfleet Headquarters -which was based in San Francisco, of all places. Why Starfleet wouldn't be in an important place like Washington D.C. confused me a bit, but I decided not to question a choice that had been made ages ago, while I'd been on ice.

Anyway, the Vulcans seemed almost statue-like, with solemn faces, odd eyebrows, and a way of making a person feel insignificant or stupid with a single look. Not long after I'd been approved to go out on my own, I'd made the mistake of bumping into one while on my way to a café, and while I apologized, the Vulcan had simply nodded his acceptance of my apology, turned and left. I'd have thought it rude, but oddly enough, I didn't feel insulted –her expressionless face had thrown me, of course, but the air around that particular race made it feel like they understood how I felt and taken it at face value.

Following that encounter, I'd since studied up on them a bit, and now realized that they were a people who focused on logic, just so they could suppress their emotions as completely as possible and still remain decent to others. A child's text about Vulcans (yes, I'd been reduced to reading those, if only to get the most information as quickly and concisely as possible) said they had done this because they were afraid of being _too_ emotional, and that they might react violently if they were to become too deeply lost in those emotions. That was something I couldn't really understand, but if that was their culture, I decided I would respect it.

Vulcans were also extremely intelligent, and knew it, so I quickly figured out that if I ever got into a conversation with one (an event that I hoped wouldn't happen very often), I knew I'd be considered very much inferior to them.

Not that they'd tell me, of course; they were as polite as they were logical, though sometimes their display of knowledge did come off arrogant. I was sure that some people found them annoying and disliked them, but I actually felt kind of sorry that they couldn't show their emotions.

'_But on a lighter note, their pointed ears are kind of cool_.'

* * *

That last thought brought me back to my new present, and to the world around me.

I smiled and nodded at a little girl with pigtails in her hair as she and her mother walked by, towards the history museum. I couldn't help but think that they were on their way to see things that were as old as I am!

Chuckling at my own thoughts, I looked down at the cup of hot chocolate in front of me, still steaming thanks to the nifty little device underneath the glass cup. That tiny heater was no bigger than my palm, and could be set to keep a cup as hot (or warm) as a person wanted. It was also one of the things that I liked best about this century: no more having to reheat drinks and getting a weird aftertaste when you drank them!

'_Drinks never taste the same after you heat them again_,' I couldn't help thinking as I sipped the rich, soothing liquid.

Looking at the data pad in my hands, I wondered which alien race I should study next. There were so many species, and most lived in San Francisco because Starfleet Headquarters was here. Because the Federation had many planets under its membership, there were dozens of different species that were part of Starfleet, which was the force that patrolled and explored the galaxy on behalf of the Federation of Planets, and many of the species that belonged to the Federation could be seen traveling the areas close to the Headquarters building.

If I'd been braver, I'd have simply tried approaching one of them to find out more about their people and ways of life, but I was too shy. I knew for a fact that I'd only end up gawking at the poor person, and they might find it insulting –and believe me, starting an interplanetary problem was the last thing I wanted!

Nope, it was better to play it safe, so I'd better pick a race that was unique and didn't have representatives on Earth, to avoid any future 'issues.' From modern news broadcasts on the view screen in my apartment, I knew that the Federation was heading towards a war with a people called the Klingons, so that of course made me curious about _them_ and why they didn't like humans.

'_Too bad there isn't much on them_,' I sighed, looking back at the pad. Still, what there was did make for an interesting read –it was usually a good idea to be informed about the people that your planet is on the verge of going to war with.

'_Well, I guess I could try and study what there already is about them, if only to sate my curiosity_.'

The sound of children laughing caught my ear, and I immediately looked up –children's laughter tended to do that to everyone for some reason.

I caught sight of a family playing in a patch of grass with their dog and smiled, thankful that at least that sort of dynamic hadn't changed over the centuries. I was actually kind of surprised that people still kept pets, though I probably shouldn't have been, considering how long humans had always loved animals.

'_Of course, the type of pet these days tends to vary_,' I thought with a wince.

With Earth now friends with other planets, all kinds of plants and animals could be considered as pets, and quite a few had made my eyes pop open when I saw them. I knew that they probably weren't dangerous, since humans were able to own them, but it still kind of freaked me out a bit whenever I saw a lizard or a four-legged creature from out of this world walking around with their owner like they were a dog or cat on a leash.

'_Given my options, I'd stick with a good old-fashioned Earth pet any day_!'

At that moment, the dog broke away from its owners and began running around the grassy area, a toy in its mouth as it tried to outrun the three kids chasing it. Dodging past its tiny owners, the canine started running around the sidewalk, weaving through people and occasionally stopping for a pat on the head or rump from passing dog lovers. When the dog stopped by my table, her eyes looked back to see if she was being followed, causing me to laugh as the oldest of the children and her father caught up with the rogue pooch.

"Sorry!" the father constantly apologized to the people he passed as he reached for the dog's collar.

I simply smiled and patted the animal's head. It was a golden retriever, its fur silky-soft as I ran my fingers over it. "Hello, beautiful," I crooned, smiling as the dog closed its eyes and enjoyed the scratch I was giving her.

"Oh, Sasha likes you!" the little girl said, running up to her dad's side as the man grabbed his pet's collar and began pulling her back. "Do you want one of her puppies?"

"Ellen, be polite!" her father chided her. "And you shouldn't offer anyone a puppy until your brother and sister are ready to part with them."

He gave me an apologetic look. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "My younger two are so attached to the pups that I couldn't give you a puppy even if you wanted one."

I shook my head. "It's no trouble. As much as I like dogs, I wouldn't have the time for one. So I think you can count your pups safe for a while longer."

The man gave me a grateful look before turning to lead both dog and daughter back to the group. I didn't see any puppies, but it was possible that they were in one of the large picnic baskets the family had with them.

Putting them from my mind, I looked back at the data pad in my lap and began chewing my lower lip as I tried to get back to my studies.

I was so focused on studying the results of World War III that I didn't hear the man coming up next to me until he spoke.

"My, aren't you the focused young woman," a voice said behind me.

The initial sound had startled me out of my concentration, but it was the voice itself that caught my attention and held it. 'Sultry,' 'deep,' and 'resonating' were some of the words that came to mind as I tried to describe it, as well as 'honeyed'; all of which were a rarity when it came to describing a man's voice.

Turning, I looked up into what could only be described as ice-blue eyes. Those chilling orbs were looking at me with such intensity that I found myself swallowing nervously as the man stepped closer, allowing me a better look at him.

He was tall, with slicked back dark hair that made his fair complexion look even paler. The shape of his face was odd; chiseled, but in a way that didn't make him too handsome. It was also somewhat slim, like his body, but I could tell there was a hidden strength hidden behind the cool exterior of his face, and in the body beneath the sleek black-and-grey ensemble he wore.

'_He's like a Japanese katana sword; perfectly honed, strong, and dangerous_.' The thought gave me a few shivers of fear, though I managed to hide them behind a polite smile.

"Yes, indeed," I replied, trying to look cheerful. "Can I help you, sir?"

This time, the stranger smiled, and when he did, it softened the cool look on his face. "Actually, I was wondering if I might join you."

The request surprised me. Not many people asked to sit at the same table I did, and when they did, it was only because the other tables were full or without the amount of space the other person required. This man, however, seemed to genuinely want to sit with me!

As much as I wanted to ask why he wanted to do so, I knew it would be rude for me to ask, so I simply nodded towards the chair across from me. I didn't know this man or his intensions, so keeping a table between us was a good idea.

That's when I gave myself a mental slap. The world was a much different place now –crime was almost non-existent, and people were much happier since poverty and hopelessness had been eradicated. The only times dangerous situations like bar fights or killings occurred was if aggressive or arrogant alien races were involve, and this man definitely didn't look like an alien.

'_He does look dangerous, however_,' the reasonable part of my brain reminded me.

Yes, he did, but it was wrong to judge someone based on their looks, so I'd let him have a seat, even though I would be keeping the table between us, just in case. It might be overly cautious of me, but better safe than sorry.

"Can I help you, sir?" a waitress asked, coming up to him.

The man gave her a broad smile. "I'll have what she's having," he replied, nodding at me.

"Hot chocolate with peppermint syrup?" she said, typing into her order pad. The man nodded. "I'll be back in a few minutes with that."

The stranger nodded again and waited until she was gone before looking at me again. "Studying something interesting? It must be, for you to look that intensely at the screen."

I shrugged. "Just some of Earth's history," I calmly replied. "I've always liked history."

The man nodded. "Yes, history is very important. If you don't learn from it, you will more than likely repeat it." He gave me a close look with those blue eyes of his. "And history is such a fascinating thing, don't you think?"

The sultriness of his voice made me shiver again, this time noticeably. "Yes, it's very interesting," I replied, looking away just as his hot cocoa arrived. "And I've got quite a bit to catch up on and study."

I tried focusing on my data pad again, but even as I tried to pick up where I'd left off, I couldn't –from across the table came the man's intense stare, and it made me wonder who he was and why, with all the other women in this area, had he decided to sit with _me_?

* * *

AN: Review?


	4. Khan

Disclaimer: I own nothing _**Star Trek**_-related…though I might consider the idea of beaming Kirk, Spock, Khan, and the actors who play them to my house, once I manage to construct my own transporter. Until then, nothing is mine except original characters.

AN: The title of this chapter says it all: it's all about Khan! There are a few pre-_Into Darkness_ details that I put in, along with what happens afterwards; all of which are pretty much came from a bit of research into past TV episodes and a _lot_ of imagination. Hopefully, everything reads smoothly. Please enjoy, and don't forget to review! Thanks!

**Chapter 4: Khan:**

In this new century, Khan had all but given up hope of finding another person from the distant past. There was himself and his crew, of course, but no others –or so he had thought.

As always, any thoughts about his crewmates made his veins run hot and cold with anger. They still lay dormant and useless, as well as helpless, from their frozen sleep, waiting for him to help fly them away from this world. He'd tried and failed to do so before –he would not fail them again. If he did, it would be the third time he'd done so.

He bit back a scowl and focused on his beverage, sipping the hot liquid in an effort to calm down.

* * *

The first time he'd failed was when his followers had been convicted of crimes against humanity, for dominating a quarter of the globe and ruling it with a violent hand. He had tried to convince the courts to not prosecute and condemn his people for simply following his commands, but the court members had refused to listen. The courts, which had been formed by the unification of the other nations of the world, had found Khan and his followers guilty of all charges.

With the verdict passed, Khan and the others had been sentenced to cryogenic sleep –but not before they were told that, someday, they would be released. Khan had been unsuccessful in persuading the judges to agree to free them on a specific day in the future, and instead had been told they would be freed "when the time was right and they were forgiven for their actions."

That had been a lie, of course –they had not been carefully stored away on Earth, to be woken when things were 'better' with the world. Instead, they had been put onto a spacecraft and launched into space, where their prosecutors had probably hoped they would perish, either onboard the ship or crash-landed on an uninhabitable planet far from Earth.

But rather than die, Khan and his crew had survived, drifting silently and unknowingly through space until their ship had been found by a far more sophisticated vessel, one belonging to something called Starfleet.

Khan himself had been woken up first, centuries after his rule on Earth had ended. After he had been removed from his chamber and his induced sleep reversed, the doctors had been impressed with his rapid recovery. Once he'd regained full control of his senses, Khan had demanded to speak with the person in charge, so that he might discover where (and when) he was.

The doctors had been reluctant at first, but after breaking the hand of one man and the arm of another, they sent for their leader.

Admiral Alexander Marcus, he was called; a man of such arrogance and determination that Khan had to admit liking him, at least in the beginning. Marcus was part of this century's space-bound armada, each ship commanded by men and women belonging to Starfleet, the era's version of military, peacekeepers, and space explorers. All of these were part of a republic of worlds called the United Federation of Planets.

Frankly, Khan had been beyond surprised and impressed with _that_ bit of information. Space travel had been in its infancy when he had been forced into slumber –he had heard of other nations deploying vessels into space, manned by groups of willing travelers and explorers, but not many had returned to share their discoveries.

"I've read the file stored inside your ship's database system," Admiral Marcus had said. "You were a ruthless warlord and tyrant, weren't you?"

"You flatter me, Admiral," Khan had countered. "I was merely trying to keep various nations from destroying each other, and taking control of them seemed to be the only logical step. And it had been a successful one, wouldn't you agree?"

Admiral Marcus had gone quiet for a moment, obviously lost in thought as a tray with two meals was brought for them. When they were alone again, the Admiral turned towards Khan. "You are a man with a great deal of intelligence and experience in war."

Khan caught on quickly. "From what your dear little medical staff has told me, your Federation of Planets is not at war with anyone."

"Not yet," Marcus admitted, his authoritative posture shifting uncomfortably under Khan's studying gaze. "But it's only a matter of time."

Really, the man was practically an open book; it was too easy to see where this was going. "Ah, I see. You need someone familiar with the brutality of war to assist you with the one you feel is coming."

It was clear the other man did not appreciate his thoughts being analyzed so quickly and clearly, but the Admiral did nod his agreement. "Yes. We need weapons that can be used to defend Earth and its allies against the Klingon Empire. We need a man like you to produce those weapons."

As intriguing and challenging as the idea was, Khan dismissed it with a wave of his hand. "In all likelihood, your weapons now are beyond anything we created in my century. I do not think that I will be of any use to you in that regard."

He did not say so aloud, but secretly, Khan was vastly curious about the technology belonging to this new age of space exploration. He wanted to know what they had done to create ships that could easily travel through the stars, and the weaponry they no doubt had on those ships.

But even though he wanted to commandeer a Starfleet ship, just to see what the vessels could do, another part of him wanted to simply take any available ship, conquer a primitive or uninhabited world and make it their new home. Oh, he could conquer a more advanced civilization, but that would create rebellion, and rebels only made things complicated and bloody. A primitive species would worship him and his people, leaving them the unquestioned rulers of that planet and providing a new home for them.

That was all he really wanted: a new place for him and his people to live on and call home. Perhaps, given time, they would be able to alter their genetic makeup, so that being driven towards war would no longer be part of them. Earth had not accepted them then, they would never accept them now, and the only choice he had of keeping those he considered friends and family safe was taking them to another world.

"That is unfortunate," Admiral Marcus sighed, breaking Khan's thoughts. "Of course, you do realize that, right now, you have no choice but to do as I ask and create the weapons I require?"

Khan had laughed; a feeling that was rather foreign to him. Amusement did not come easily to him, and laughter did feel strange after being asleep for so long. "Do I, Admiral? I could easily break the neck of every person in this room, and no one will be able to stop me. I am far more physically advanced than the strongest man you have on your ship –you stand no chance against me."

Marcus shrugged. "That is true. However, I have 72 reasons why I think you will cooperate with me." He looked Khan in the eye. "That's how many of your crew members were sent into space with you, isn't it?"

The ice that had shot through his veins woke him to something very important. If they had accessed the ship's computers, they knew who he was, that the people in the cryogenic chambers were his most faithful followers. His crew had been his strength all those years ago, but now they were his weakness –and what was worse, Marcus knew that.

Even though he had been considered a cold, heartless tyrant, Khan Noonien Singh had cared for his closest and most loyal followers. They'd stood by him in every fight, protected him and served him in every way possible, all to bring about a rough, unsteady peace in the areas of the world he had conquered. Together, they had bled, laughed, cried, and lived as best they could on a planet torn apart by war, famine, and disease. Brutal as he was, Khan could not let his people die.

Barely restraining his temper, Khan had agreed to the Admiral's terms, his mind toiling with ideas of revenge on the man who dared challenge him.

* * *

After that day, things went to Hell for him.

Khan had spent the next several months building photon torpedoes and designing the perfect starship for war, both of which were Marcus's secret projects. But even as he worked, he quietly devised a way to rescue his people from the grasp of his new enemy. He had thought himself successful once, but that hope was destroyed when Marcus discovered Khan's plan to smuggle his comrades out inside the hollow shells of some of the torpedoes he had helped make.

"You'll soon learn that it isn't wise to defy someone who holds all the cards," Marcus had sneered as his people transported the cryogenic chambers away to a hidden location. "One more act like this, and I'll make sure they never wake up."

His plan foiled, Khan had felt his humanity wither. He had no choice but to do as he'd been ordered to by the Admiral –at least, to a certain point. The Admiral had asked for enough torpedoes to fill an entire fleet of starships, but Khan had only made enough for one ship. So, feeling that his "obligation" to Marcus was at an end, he escaped.

Some might have viewed his escape as cowardly, but Khan knew that if he remained a prisoner, he would be one forever. His crew might sneer at him for this action as well, but as much as he hated to admit it, Khan knew that he was helpless when imprisoned. Once he was free, he would be able to concoct a plan to free them so that they could all travel together, in one form or another.

It had taken months of careful planning, but his plot to bring Starfleet and Admiral Marcus to their knees had been sound. He'd selected a desperate individual, had him destroy the base where Khan himself had been imprisoned, and torn down a room full of Starfleet captains and first officers. It had been so simple, it was almost laughable.

Then things had begun to go poorly, and after his encounter with Captain James Kirk and his people of the Enterprise, Khan had once again found himself at someone else's mercy. True, he had gotten revenge on Marcus by crushing his head like an over-ripe fruit, and leveled a great deal of San Francisco in the process, but in the end, he had been brought down by a vengeful Vulcan and an armed woman. How humiliating.

The only comfort Khan had was that his people were safe and still asleep in their cryo-tubes. They would not know his shame unless he told them of it, and when he had been put to rest as well, Khan's final thought had been that perhaps this time, he would never be allowed to wake.

Oh, how he loved the unexpected…

* * *

When he had actually found himself waking inside his chamber, Khan had thought that Starfleet had once again sought to obtain his knowledge. He had been ready to fight whomever had awoken him, but to his surprise (and he was not often surprised), there was no one else in the dark storage area where he found himself.

It took only a few moments for Khan to realize that the chamber he had been in had malfunctioned, either due to human error in setting the sleep controls or the controls themselves failing. Whatever the reason, he found himself awake and no one else the wiser.

Acting quickly, he found the computer panel that controlled the room's security monitoring system, and temporarily disabled it, giving him time to search the area where he had been left to slumber. It was all too easy to find a security guard walking by and disarming him, knocking him out with the butt of his weapon and dragging him inside. Already a plan had formed in Khan's mind, and if he acted swiftly enough, he might find himself free again.

Removing the man's outer clothing, Khan put him into his own cryo-chamber and initiated the device, placing the guard in frozen sleep. He then donned the guard's uniform and hat, reactivated the security monitoring system, and walked out. To anyone watching, he was simply a guard checking in on the secret prisoners in the storage site, and with 73 people still sleeping in those chambers, no one would suspect anything was amiss.

A search of the guard's pockets yielded his identification tags for the site, which made finding out the man's address mere child's play. Khan soon found the small apartment that belonged to his unknowing benefactor, and quickly sent out a message in the man's name, claiming that he was "going on emergency leave" for a week, and would return to work as soon as he was able.

This would give Khan more than enough time to find another identity to assume, as well as formulate a plan to free his crewmates.

* * *

For the first day or two, he hid, watching for news of his escape. He expected Starfleet to find out sooner rather than later, and had kept his senses heightened, in case they attempted to take him by surprise.

As he waited for what he felt was an imminent arrest, he put his mind to work. He began considering all the different ways that he could free his people without causing too much of a fuss, and if possible, do it so that no one would know until it was far too late.

It was a good thing his genetically created body did not need much rest, as Khan spent every hour awake and alert, part of him expecting attack while another part considered his options and planned for a day when he and the others could escape this wretched planet.

A day went by, then another, and it was late the second night that Khan realized that no one was coming after him. If Starfleet had discovered his escape, they would have attempted to retrieve and imprison him again as swiftly as possible –since they hadn't, he was confident that they had no idea he had managed to slip through their grasp.

And that only meant they would not be prepared for anything he had in mind.

* * *

After three days, Khan managed to find a solution to his problem –and it involved the dead.

It was obvious, when one thought about it: once a person is buried, no one bothers to check if the person is still inside the grave they were put in. This left Khan with the perfect way to rescue his crew and replace them with 'decoys.'

Finding the bodies was the easiest part; it was getting his people _out_ of the cryo-tubes that was the issue, as well as finding a way to put all of the 73 corpses he had found _into_ them. And fortunately for him, Khan was able to find a solution to that before his week-long grace period was up.

Using the guard's uniform, he slipped back into the base to survey it closely. Once he had memorized the schedule of certain key personnel, Khan slipped back in to gain access to the transporter and the more restricted areas of the base.

Although he could have used a portable transporter device, it was not powerful enough to do what he needed it to –portable transporters could only beam three or five people at one time. So, using the base's transporter, Khan quickly beamed his people to a remote building outside San Francisco, in which he had placed a tracking beacon so that the transporter could beam them directly out of their chambers and to a safe location. Once they were all safely away, he then sent the corpses into the cryo-tubes –all except one.

The guard whom Khan had put into his own chamber was sent back to his apartment, dressed in his uniform, where several empty liquor bottles awaited him. His first night in the man's apartment had indicated the man to be a heavy drinker, so it would cause no surprise to anyone if the guard had gone 'on leave' only to drink himself into a stupor during that time. Khan had no idea how the man remained employed at Starfleet, but in all likelihood, he probably had a relative in the ranks who had obtained the position for him.

Not that it mattered to Khan –it had only proved to be beneficial, not only to him, but to those that mattered the most to him.

* * *

With all 73 cryogenic chambers filled with decoy prisoners, his people finally freed, and the guard taken care of, Khan began to devote his time to reviving his people.

Like him, all of his followers had been genetically engineered to be the perfect soldier, their bodies given extreme regeneration and healing properties so that they could survive nearly any injury or torture. They could still be killed, usually through beheading (a particular favorite means of execution in his ruling days), or vaporization by extreme heat. One particular warlord from his era had frozen his victims into solidity and had them shattered through the use of large hammers. Another had cut open the chests of his prisoners, just so he could crush their hearts in the palm of his hand while his victims died without that key component in their bodies.

'_Not a pretty time, but still, an interesting one_,' he fondly remembered.

But with their healing abilities, it was simply a matter of letting his people rest on the flat floor of the building he had located, a large, dilapidated warehouse with plenty of space. He hadn't dared hire someone to provide beds, furniture, or to even clean the place, but he'd done what he could to lay out blankets, pillows, clothes, shoes, and a dozen or so lamps scattered about for light and heat. Khan had made sure to disguise himself with a hat and subtle adjustments to his looks so that he could comb through the outdoor markets for necessities, obtaining items from different vendors and replicator locations to avoid suspicion in the amount of items he required. He had also done so to avoid having his image captured by the security cameras that had been scattered about the heart of the city following his attack several years ago.

In fact, it was on one of his shopping expeditions that he began searching public records to discover why no one was after him.

Foolish organization that they were, Starfleet had never revealed his face to the world. Those in the higher ranks had merely met secretly at Headquarters after the incident in London, and after Khan's attack on Starfleet Headquarters, no one had distributed his image to their fleet.

Khan attributed this lack of action due to the fact that, once he was off-planet on the Klingon home world, Starfleet hadn't wanted to cause panic and kept his image and any information on him quiet. It was only those on the Enterprise had known who he was and where (not to mention when) he was from, and that was because the idiot Admiral Marcus had sent them to destroy Khan and his people, with the Enterprise crew finding out all of those little 'secrets' during their pursuit of Khan and scanning the cryo-tubes that had held his followers.

Then, during his attack on San Francisco, no one had actually gotten a really good look at him. His chase and battles with Spock through the heights of the city had not been recorded, and after his capture, Khan had been put back into this frozen sleep. A little research into their confidential files, courtesy of the security badge of the obliging guard Khan had used in his escape, revealed that Starfleet had declared that the terrorist responsible for the tragedy had been 'dealt with accordingly.' They had then assumed that Khan been stuck in his cryogenics chamber forever, and dismissed all thought of him.

That lovely mistake on their part left him able to achieve his goals with little interference. How fortunate for _him_!

* * *

At this point, four days after his successful retrieval of his people, many of them were still in the process of being 'thawed,' though none were conscious as of yet, much less at their fullest and best. He knew they would require rest and recuperation when they did wake, and that meant that they would need nourishment.

Today, Khan had decided to risk traveling into the city, though he would remain just off of the more popular areas, where fewer observation cameras were scattered about. He wanted to obtain a used and older model of replicator, and it was only here that he would be able to find one that could keep up with the amount of food that would be required by so many recovering warriors.

'_A pity our bodies require vast amounts of food and drink after a long healing or fight_.' It was a side-effect of theirs, but since they had so many other advantages, it was something they could tolerate.

Once in the city, Khan had dared to consider having a meal at an eatery. It would be a welcome change from the food he normally obtained for himself –cooking was something far beneath a man like him, but he hadn't dared eat somewhere public, for fear that someone from Starfleet might see and recognize him.

And it was at one pleasant little café that he saw the oddly-dressed young woman pouring over a data pad. A quick glance through the well-lit screen showed her researching an era that preceded his, her eyes focused on it with such intensity that a hole might burn into the pad. Her expression was so different from the relaxed ones of those around her that Khan found himself curious about her.

Within minutes, he had approached her and seated himself at her table, a waitress taking his order of a drink as he carefully questioned her.

It did not take long from him to analyze her. The odd sort of dress that mixed styles of today with some that were old, even by his time; the interest in past history with no regard for the present; her inability to blend in and integrate herself into the crowded café and the culture going on around her; the way her words were spoken with a different, looser delivery that did not suit this century; and the little bit about "catching up and studying" told him everything he needed to know.

Like him, this woman was not from this time –and that made her all the more interesting and amusing to him.

* * *

AN: Sorry for the late update again; real life has not been my friend these past few weeks, and I don't anticipate it getting any easier for me –not for a while, in any case. Still, I'll do my best to post once a week, at least, though the day I post might vary. In the meantime, I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and will please leave a review. Until next time!


	5. Interests and Developments

Disclaimer: I own nothing Star Trek-related…though I might consider the idea of beaming Kirk, Spock, Khan, and the actors who play them to my house, once I manage to construct my own transporter. Until then, nothing is mine except original characters.

AN: Hello, all! I'm so sorry for not posting earlier; I'd give excuses, but I doubt anyone wants to hear them. So, instead, please enjoy the chapter, and don't forget to review! Thanks!

**Chapter 5: Interests and Developments:**

The thought of finding someone from further in the past than him was beyond interesting, and Khan couldn't help but wonder what sort of treasures her mind might be able to provide him. Historical records of many past events had been lost during the wars of his time, and he was very curious as to what information this woman had hidden in the depths of her mind.

But that was a thought for another day. Right now, he wished to know a bit more about this young woman, though it was relatively simple to guess some things through careful observation.

To him, at first glance, she was a confused, frustrated mess. She obviously did not know a great deal about this century, and unlike Khan himself, she lacked the superior intellect it took to absorb information quickly. Her eyes occasionally darted around, taking in one modern convenience or another with a mixture of awe, curiosity, and confusion that did not show on the faces of those around her.

'_She might not be conscious of it, but it doesn't matter; such an expression does not belong to someone born, raised, and familiar with this time_.'

This woman was clearly out of her depth, though Khan could certainly surmise that she was doing her best to adapt and to use some of the modern conveniences humanity had developed over the centuries –she was able to use her data pad with ease, as well as the little drink heater that sat beneath her cup, but she still shifted around in her chair like an animal caught in unfamiliar surroundings.

And it was more than apparent that she was drawing herself inwards. Whether this was intentional or not, he did not know, but she was clearly still uncomfortable and unfamiliar with the world –the girl seemed more inclined to burrow into her data pad than interact with the people who sat laughing, talking, and joking around her.

Her dress, as well as her attitude, screamed that she did not know much about Earth's new culture, either. She had mixed the sleek, professional appearance of the city with the rougher, mismatched garments worn by those who lived or traveled outside it, creating a look that was odd and very much made her stand out. Here, in this area of San Francisco, everyone wore single colors, or ones that were slightly lighter or darker than the color their main outfit was. Since this was the location of Starfleet, an organization that loved uniforms on many different levels, many of the business professionals here had decided to follow their example and wear outfits that were comfortable, sleek, and set standards when it came to fashion.

This woman's choice of a green blouse, blue jeans, black shoes, and a short black trench coat had puzzled him, particularly in this area of the city (though strangely enough, it had been her outfit that had attracted his eye in the first place).

Inverting herself, as well as her unfamiliarity with the world in general, made her an easy target for him. She was probably alone in the world, with few friends, if any, a quality that made her all the more vulnerable –and if there was one thing a man like Khan loved to find, it was a vulnerability in something…or someone.

'_She's also rather soft-hearted_.' He had guessed that when she had shown affection for the dog a few moments earlier.

In his experience, anyone who was kindly to animals and small children was soft and weak, making them easy to toy with. They thought the best of everyone, and were generally thought of as 'good people.' Ironically, those 'good people' left themselves open to manipulation, as well as the negative emotions and torments those emotions brought with them.

'_Even better, they never ever know it until it's too late_,' he thought, hiding a smile behind his cup.

Though he should really be focusing on helping his crew, Khan couldn't help but think that this little encounter could prove more than a little amusing. Oh, he would certainly dedicate a majority of his time finding a way for him and his people off of this planet, but a little fun would be a satisfying break in his routine.

"Are you studying any particular part of history?" Khan asked.

She gave him a quick glance with her eyes before turning back towards her computer pad. "World War III," she replied, not making eye contact.

Hmm, yes, there it was: avoiding his gaze may have been shyness, but it was clear that she was afraid of him. Khan knew that he could be intimidating, but when it came to people 'with a heart,' they found him especially so; it was as though they sensed danger, like prey when they felt the gaze of a hunter on them.

Pulling on a false façade, Khan gave her a smile that he knew appeared kindly –it was the same one he had given his prisoners to ease their fears, right before he sentenced them to torture or death.

"I'm afraid I have been quite rude," he said, setting aside his cup and holding out a hand for her to shake. "John Harrison."

He waited as she seemed to analyze the situation, and in turn, he began to analyze her. She was unsure about his motives, and very suspicious, even though she seemed to not want to be. That left two things she could do: accept his hand, or refuse it. If she refused, she would appear rude, and that was not in this woman's nature. If she accepted, she left herself open to him, which was all to his benefit.

In the end, she made the choice he knew she would: she took his hand and shook it. "Adrianna Drake," she introduced herself. "But everyone calls me Ria."

"Ria," Khan slowly drawled out. "What a lovely name."

* * *

"So, what have you been up to the past few weeks?" Lydia asked as we headed out to dinner. Our destination was a nearby Italian restaurant, one of the few places close to our apartment complex that served real food prepared by a live chef.

I rolled my eyes as she grinned at me. As a reward for her efforts with me, Lydia had recently gotten a promotion at the hospital, and now had a lot more work on her plate. She had a lot more responsibilities, and needed to spend more time at the hospital because of it, so she hadn't seen me for the past three or four weeks.

To be honest, I had the suspicion that the promotion had been more of a means of getting Lydia to spend less time helping me with my issues. Her father had been the one to promote her, too, and he hadn't been so keen on Lydia's willingness to put aside everything to focus on assisting me, so it was no wonder the whole thing smelled fishy (in my opinion, at least). Lydia, however, had been thrilled at the prospect, and asked if it was alright for her to leave me on my own for a while.

At first, I'd had mixed emotions about the whole thing. After I had moved out of her apartment and into my own, Lydia and I had slowly begun to wean me off spending so much time with her. However, Lydia had always been a constant presence that I could count on, so I obviously had been reluctant at first. But I knew I'd have to let go and strike out on my own eventually, so when she'd told me about the promotion, I had been supportive and told her to take it.

Now she wanted details about how things were with me, even if I had more than a sneaking suspicion that she already knew I'd made a new acquaintance.

"Oh, I haven't been doing much," I casually replied as we walked into the restaurant and were promptly seated by the hostess. "Just studying and walking around the city, like usual."

She sighed and accepted a data pad with a menu on it. "Ria, sweetie, you know I've got eyes and ears everywhere in the living complex. I know you've been going out every day to meet someone; people have seen you talking with a man at a nearby café."

I know she was worried about me, and was very protective, but I didn't really need it. "Lydia, I appreciate your concern, but I'm a big girl. I always make sure to meet him in a public place, with others around. We're just getting to know each other as friends; that's all."

"But it's still a significant step for you," Lydia reminded me, as a waiter came to pour water into our glasses. When we were alone again, she continued. "A man would be a good thing for you, Ria. He can offer you a lot of emotional and psychological support." She winked at me. "And don't forget the physical side of it, too."

"Lydia!" I half cried, half gasped. "I'm _not_ looking for a boyfriend! I've got too much to do!"

Picking up the menu, I busied myself with choosing what I wanted to eat. Lydia copied my movements, and after a few minutes, the waiter came to take our orders. Once we had ordered and he was gone, Lydia again turned her attention towards me.

When she saw me glaring at her, she sighed and shook her head. "Ria, as much as I admire your dedication and determination, you can't spend all of your time studying information on your computer or data pad! You need to make more friends, socialize more, and live a little. Having a guy in your life will be good for you; he'll be able to do all that, and help you open up."

Having a boyfriend was tempting -I _was_ lonely without Lydia to talk to, and she was my only friend. The idea of someone to provide affection was also appealing, but right now, I had to be practical: I still had a lot to catch up on, and it was a bad idea to try and have a decent conversation about anything modern when I was lacking in that area.

"Not a good time," I told her, reaching for my water glass. "I need to get things together a bit more, and learn enough about the world that I can have a good conversation with the other person. After that, if I feel confident, we'll see what happens."

Lydia rolled her eyes, and looked like she wanted to argue, but didn't. She knew how stubborn I could be. "Alright, fine," she caved. "But if you're worried about having a decent conversation, what do you and this mystery man talk about? The weather?"

"As a matter of fact, we do talk about the weather," I informed her, tossing a glare Lydia's way. "We also talk about classical music, the architecture of the surrounding buildings, and a tiny bit about ourselves. You know; all sorts of stuff."

To the people of my century, every topic I'd just listed sounded boring, but without an entertainment industry providing fodder to the masses, there were no tabloid stories or other gossipy topics to chat about. People in this day and age had evolved beyond that, focusing their minds on more important and serious things like science, interplanetary travel, the present issue with the Klingons, and other things that were of more importance. Oh, they did still joke around and have fun, but they didn't try to relish in other people's suffering, agony, or misery.

It was actually kind of refreshing, being able to talk about more thoughtful ideas and topics, without having to worry if the other person was going to think I was boring or a 'geek' for focusing on intelligent subject matters. I could seriously go on for ages when it came to the beauty of the buildings that stood scattered throughout San Francisco –it was the art and architecture admirer inside me that did it.

At that moment, the waiter arrived with our food. "Ladies, your dinner," he said, putting our plates in front of us.

"Thank you," Lydia and I chorused as the waiter gave us a nod before leaving.

As I speared a bit of chicken with my fork, Lydia picked up our conversation again. "Well, as long as you're talking with someone other than me, I suppose I should be grateful," Lydia reluctantly said, cutting into her lobster tail. "Just promise me that you won't fall head-over-heels in love with the guy, okay? I don't want you nursing a broken heart just when you're starting to get confidence in yourself."

"No worries there," I told her. "He doesn't know a lot about my past; I gave him a made-up story about being from a small town where we didn't use much advanced technology, and were happy with the way we lived. I think the truth might have been a bit too much for the poor man to handle."

Actually, I didn't think that was true. John was a very intelligent man, and I knew he thought it was weird that I wasn't comfortable with everything in the world around me. So I'd made up the story to provide an excuse for my awkwardness. I don't think he bought it, though; not completely.

Lydia chuckled, but nodded her agreement with my last comment. "Still, if the time comes, I'm optimistic that you'll tell him the truth about yourself."

As she began chatting about her job at the hospital, I lost myself in my own thoughts. I had to admit, John seemed like a decent man, but behind the smooth, resonating and almost hypnotic voice, part of me felt that there was something dangerous about him. Usually, mysterious, dangerous men tended to draw women like magnets, but not me –something about John threw me a little bit, and I couldn't place what that was.

'_It makes no sense_,' I thought to myself, all while eating my way through my pasta dish. '_John has been nothing but decent to me, and very open during our conversations. So why is it that I feel I can't trust him completely_?'

Then again, I'd never really trusted guys who showed interest in me -I'd been played the fool once or twice too often, though I'd never sworn off men entirely. But a few guys had only shown interest in me just so they could get to a friend of mine through me, and after a while, it had always made me suspicious whenever a man walked up and tried to "get to know me better," all so he could squeeze out some information on one of my friends so that he could ask her out on a date.

But John hadn't even mentioned Lydia, or wanting to get to know her in any way –he had focused entirely on our conversations, and never tried overly flirting or weaseling his way into my affections beyond that of friendship.

'_Maybe it's me_?' It was an idea I'd been considering, and I was very close to agreeing with it.

'_But maybe it's not such a bad idea to hide a few things about yourself_,' warned a sensible voice inside my head.

Well, there were plenty of things that John didn't know, the prime one being the fact that I was from three hundred years in the past! I had kept _that_ little kernel of information back!

'_He is charming, though_,' whispered the soft, romantic side of me. '_Handsome, too_!'

Well, handsome is as handsome does, though John certainly was that. He was especially handsome when he smiled or chuckled at a joke or teasing comment I made.

And he really was charming. More than once I'd had to fight the urge to just spill out the answer to every one of his questions, and whenever I did hold back successfully, I'd actually felt bad that I hadn't given John what he'd wanted. It had scared me at first, this sense of wanting to make him happy and fighting against that urge, but I'd thought it best to stay as safe and careful as possible when interacting with him.

'_After all, we've only known each other for such a short time_,' I kept telling myself.

Part of me said that Lydia was right, and that I needed to interact and trust in other people. My past experience with men belonged to the past, and even though there were probably still men who toyed with women and their emotions, it was very possible that the new 'modern man' was at least a _little_ more mature than they had been three centuries ago.

But the practical side said that I should be careful, no matter what. People did stupid things for attention or love, and I did not want to be one of them. Maybe, as I grew to trust him more, I'd give in and tell John a lot more about me, but not right now.

At the moment, we would be tentative friends, and as time went by, maybe we could actually become real, solid friends who could share and be trusted with the other's secrets.

* * *

All it takes is one tiny instance: a moment of kindness; a second of opening up; or of being courteous to a stranger. Once that is done, talk tends to flow like water let free from a dam.

'_And thank goodness for the overly-trusting philosophy of modern humans_!'

Oh, how he loved the trusting nature of people in this century! They had gone soft over the centuries that Khan had been asleep, as global unification, space travel, and interstellar peace had brought humanity together in ways that he and most of his kind had failed to achieve.

However, it had also only made them more inclined to trust many of the strangers they came across –humans these days were willing to trust almost any other human, as well as many individuals from races that belonged to the Federation. Khan didn't think humanity's intelligence had completely gone, since advancing technologically and scientifically required significant intellect, but for those functioning outside those areas of study, he had great doubts about them.

Khan also believed that anyone who had a more guarded nature tended to be in Starfleet, where encounters with strange races required both captain and crew to have suspicions until the encountered race could prove themselves worthy of being called a friend or ally of the Federation and Starfleet.

And yet, unlike the typical modern human female, Ria was a mixture of trust and suspicion. Her wits weren't completely dulled, which he approved of, but she wasn't as soft as he'd like –there were questions he had wanted to ask, but knew that she wouldn't answer. Oh, Ria _did_ provide answers readily enough during conversations that weren't too personal, but Khan also knew that she was keeping many things back from him.

Watching his crewmembers study the data pads he'd acquired for them, Khan pondered that a moment. His particular charms when it came to extracting information were usually quite helpful, especially when it came to questioning women –females found him and his voice attractive, and were more than willing to answer his inquiries. But Ria seemed to fight that charm whenever she could, leaving him wanting when it came to information he wanted from her.

'_It must be something leftover from her era, no doubt_. _People tended to be far more suspicious of each other in the far past,_' Khan thought to himself as he sat, observing his crew as their eyes and minds drank in the information being displayed on their computers.

He didn't know why he found her so interesting –she wasn't his equal; she was inferior in every way, from mentally to physically and psychologically. She was no fighter or scientist, but was in fact an art admirer and great appreciator of art, architecture, music, and sculpture. Ria also dressed eccentrically, where Khan coordinated everything about himself so that he fit in with his surroundings, as a good soldier did when moving amongst his enemies. She did try to fit in as best she could by studying hard, but it wasn't enough to cover up her lack of knowledge about this century, and the ones between it and hers.

"Sir, the replicator has malfunctioned again," one of his men called, getting his attention and breaking his thoughts.

Biting back a snarl of irritation, Khan focused on remaining calm and collected. His people had recently come out of their comas, their bodies healing and adapting them to this century's atmosphere and any new organisms that had arrived with the Federation's allies.

Thanks to a discarded replicator he had acquired a few days after their rescue, they now all had plenty of pillows, blankets, clothes, food, and other necessities. Data pads were harder to obtain, since the replicator Khan had obtained was an older model and couldn't form anything too highly technical. He'd been forced to go to replication centers for the data pads, and could only get away with obtaining four at a time from each location without looking too suspicious. As such, he'd just gotten the last person one of the devices this afternoon, so each had their own without having to share and fight over them.

'_Soon, they will be fully familiar with this century_,' Khan thought with immense satisfaction. '_Even now, they're studying modern technology, medicine, and fighting techniques, as well as the specs of past and present starships. They are preparing for the day when we will be able to take one and leave this planet for one of our own_.'

However, not all of them were relieved to be freed of their prisons -in fact, every one of them was extremely angry with what had happened and how things had turned out. Some of his people had started families in their century, and been taken away from them when the courts had convicted and imprisoned them. They had no way of knowing their families' fates, as records from that era had gaps and missing information.

All were resentful because of that, but when Khan told them his plan to leave this world and begin anew elsewhere, they were more than willing to follow him on a path to a new life.

To help seal their loyalty to him, each crewmember knew what Khan had been through at the hands of Admiral Marcus, and that had ignited their bloodlust. Khan was certain that, with just the 72 of them fighting at his side, they would be able to fly away from Earth and conquer the first non-Federation planet they came across.

But first, they had to learn about this new world they were in. Such a thing took time, even for him and his people, but soon, it would happen. Soon, they would find a place to call home, and when they did, they would create an empire to rival the collective planetary systems that belonged to the Federation.

Then, it would only be a matter of time before Khan and his crew, or their descendants, set out to conquer the Federation's worlds as well, reducing the Federation to nothing and making its worlds their own.

The dream was so delicious that Khan was going to make sure he was still around to see it happen.

* * *

AN: Review?


	6. Contemplations

Disclaimer: I own nothing _**Star Trek**_-related…though I might consider the idea of beaming Kirk, Spock, Khan, and the actors who play them to my house, once I manage to construct my own transporter. Until then, nothing is mine except original characters.

AN: I am _so_ incredibly sorry for not updating sooner, but with real life getting in my way, I haven't been able to find the time to write, much less post.

Anyway, this entire chapter is from Khan's POV, just so everyone knows. Please enjoy, and please don't forget to review. Thanks!

**Chapter 6: Contemplations:**

"So, what shall we talk about today?" Khan asked the woman before him, leaning back in his seat as a waitress set a cup of coffee on the table in front of him.

She gave him an amused glance. "Why don't you decide today?" she replied, answering his question with one of her own.

He tried not to let his amusement and frustration show. Ria knew he hated it when she did that –that was, no doubt, the reason she always did it, and sometimes Khan didn't know whether to laugh or get angry at her teasing.

"Very well," he agreed, reaching for the cream and sugar. "Let us talk about your studies, and what you hope for your future."

Ria gave him a serious look. "You'll laugh at me if I tell you."

Ah, now _that_ caught his interest. "I promise not to laugh at you," Khan solemnly swore, though on the inside, he was very pleased that she was going to be so forthcoming with her answer. He liked it when she was so ready to be honest with him.

"I want to travel on a starship," Ria slowly replied. "I know there's little chance of it happening, given my age and many other factors, but it would be amazing if I could get a position on a space-bound vessel."

She sighed. "But the only way I can do that is to have graduated from Starfleet Academy in a field of specialty. I have to prove myself, and show that I can be of some use to the Federation and Starfleet, but right now, I don't think I have what it takes to be either one of those things."

Khan agreed with her, but he did not say so aloud. "Hmm, that could be a problem," he muttered, pretending to look concerned and sympathetic.

Over the past few days, Ria had been clear about her intentions to travel the stars, and her wish to possibly enlist in Starfleet. He knew she feared she was not intelligent enough to be admitted, and even though he had offered comforting words, he knew she was correct. With her lack of familiarity with Earth's multiple cultures, the races it was allied with, and the complexities of technology, Starfleet would refuse her entry before it even finished glancing over her application.

However, unlike Ria, Khan had done a little further research into Starfleet, and noticed that there was a bit of a 'loophole' in their admissions. Apparently there was a way for civilians to travel aboard starships, but only if they were trained to interact with Starfleet officers and their crew. They also had to know how to defend themselves in all sorts of situations, and to think about their actions before they did them. The civilians would also have to be willing to risk their lives aboard these ships, since they traveled far and wide, encountering dangers and occasional fights with hostile races. If Ria was willing to agree to that sort of thing, and could prove that she had skills that could prove unique or valuable, she might be granted a place aboard a ship.

Not that Khan would tell her that. If she wanted this, she would have to investigate it further, and discover it for herself.

"Perhaps you should study harder," he said, his voice full of encouragement. "I'm sure that, with a little more effort, you could achieve what you want. Joining Starfleet is a noble calling, and it doesn't call to just anyone. It is a very good choice."

It was a strange role for him, being the comforting and encouraging person in the conversation. He didn't like it much –it went against every fiber of his being, and his natural personality. The only time he was ever encouraging was to his followers, and even then it was more in the form of an inspirational speech, rather than comforting words.

'_Soft words come from soft people_,' he often told himself.

Sympathy and comfort led to a person giving and accepting excuses as to why they had failed to do what they achieved. When Khan spoke to his people, it was to drive them forward, giving them the determination to go do what they set out to and not stop until it was done, no matter what the cost. They rarely failed him, and those that did were harshly punished.

But Ria was not like that. She was a strong enough woman, at least mentally and intellectually, but emotionally, she was fragile –and Khan usually did not enjoy fragile things. Delicate creatures tended to break too easily if handled roughly, and it was always impossible to restore them to their previous state once they were broken.

And yet, for all their fragileness, delicate creatures were more than amusing to toy with. He especially liked trying to become friends with them, just so he could manipulate them into doing whatever he asked later on. It was time-consuming, to be sure, but it was also a lesson in patience, and in one form or another, was almost always quite rewarding.

In this matter, toying with Ria was a touch more complicated. Khan wasn't sure what he might be able to obtain from any form of friendship or relationship they might have, but even with her lack of skills and knowledge of the century, at some point in the future, she could prove herself useful.

Giving her a discreet look out of the corner of his eye, Khan took in the bright blue shirt, black pants, tall black boots, and dark blue leather jacket, his sensible mind wondering why he was beginning to like spending a few hours a day with her. She was so different from everyone else he had ever known, so why did he not find her irritating to be with?

All his life, he had known only the brightest, strongest, keenest, and most determined men and women; they had served him well, fought in endless battles and wars with him, and when he came to rule, they distributed his justice to the countries he had conquered. When it was time to bring prisoners before him for Khan's brand of justice, they held their captives steady while he chose and delivered their fates.

Ria was nothing like his followers. Her heart was warm and soft –it had almost been sickening, that first time they'd met, him watching her coo over children and animals. He would blame it on her being female, but he had women in his crew, and they did not fuss over children and furry animals. They didn't harm them, but they didn't like them, either; they merely tolerated the creatures when they were around, and urged them out the way as needed.

'_Ria isn't overly intelligent, either_,' he thought with a slight frown. '_She isn't an idiot, but she is not like us_.'

No, she certainly wasn't that! It was true that Ria did have a brain, but it was an average mind, and one that functioned far below Khan's own intellect. He was brilliant, bred with a brain that could analyze any situation, and was very keenly focused on strategy and survival. If he needed to, Khan could improvise on a dangerous situation, making it so he came out of it alive and, hopefully, unscathed.

Unfortunately, Ria was the sort who, if she couldn't figure out an answer to a situation, she pushed it aside or gave up on it entirely. Khan believed it might be due to her being out of place with this century, but given how dejected she looked about the unlikelihood of getting into Starfleet, it was likely carried over from her previous existence.

'_But if it isn't her intelligence, or her strength of character that is appealing, than what is it_?' he wondered, setting his cup aside as he waited for someone to come refill it.

When she exchanged friendly smiles with the waitress who came to pour more coffee, he immediately realized what it was. '_I actually enjoy her company __**because**__ she is different from me_.'

Truth be told, it was a startling revelation. Khan had never actually enjoyed spending hours talking with someone before –his people had been devoted to him, all eager to follow his orders, spread his commands and justice through the nations he'd governed, and fight for him. They were loyal because he was a man with a powerful presence, a leader who would see that they all remained above the 'normal' humans and answered to no one.

This attitude made Khan and his people cool and distant from others, because one never knew if a person they called 'friend' might actually be an enemy with other intentions. It also brought them together; a tightly knit unit that was the closest thing to being called a 'family' in their difficult lives.

But Ria was not like any of his people. Her personality was warm, open, trusting, and soft, all very bad things when he first thought about it, but when she made him laugh or smile, at least part of that laugh or smile was genuine. People had tried hard to amuse him in the past, and nearly all of them had failed –their only reason for making him laugh was to see if he had any kind of weakness in him, and so even though Khan did feel that he had a minute sense of humor, he had never dared cracked a smile in the presence of anyone other than his crew.

Ria's efforts to amuse him were far from false, and since she had no idea who he was and what he had done, Khan had let his guard down around her. He had done this only because he knew she had no ulterior motives when it came to teasing or joking with him, and though he did not like admitting it, it did feel good to laugh and relax for a little while (even if his guard was never fully down).

Her positive attitude was refreshing as well. Khan had grown up in a world torn apart by war and death, an environment that tended to lower the spirits rather quickly and keep them there. By the time he had fully grasped his hard-won seat of power, not one of his followers had possessed a 'cheerful and positive' attitude –all that was left was a serious, determined and hard-working soldier who could show no sign of weakness, which included humor.

If he wanted to be honest with himself, Khan would admit to feeling a little liberated in his encounters with Ria. His crewmates were frustrated with having to memorize so much new information, and were unaccustomed to a world that was at peace with itself. They felt useless, restless, and very much behind in the advances of the world –the same way Ria obviously felt with her similar situation.

But unlike them, she handled her frustrations with a sigh of resignation, a smile, and a quiet determination to work and try harder. She did not punch holes or throw knives into the wall, nor did she look as though she wanted to strangle something when she forgot what she felt was an important fact. For Ria to be visibly upset, angry or frustrated was not a thing he had often seen in her.

He had often considered good humor to be a weakness, but in this new world of peace between species and planets, perhaps having someone to teach him and his people openness, resignation, acceptance, and patience would be helpful. Soldiers who bred for battle but had no wars to fight tended to become agitated, and Khan would need someone like this woman to provide them, and their descendants, with new skills and teach them gentler temperaments. They would need those, in case they needed to gain allies using a gentle hand rather than an iron fist.

'_Should I ask her to come along with us when we leave this planet_?' he wondered, toying with the idea for a moment or two.

On one hand, she would probably not survive long to experience much. His people were strong, able, and could do many things that ordinary humans could not. Their strength was several times that of a normal human, they did not require much air to breathe if they were ever deprived of it, and they could toil for days at intensive labor in harsh environments without needing rest. If they settled on a harsh planet, Ria would not survive the experience for very long.

There was also the fact that neither the men nor women in his group would accept her. Like him, they would recognize her inferiority to them, and see that she was weaker, less intelligent, and altogether unable to handle the society they had formed, and which would, at least at first, govern the world they settled upon. They would probably kill her outright, if only to 'spare' her a terrible fate on an inhospitable planet.

For a brief second, he considered the idea of applying to the Federation, asking them to put him and his followers to use in future wars. In return, Khan would ask for a planet to settle upon, and once they were settled, he and his people would go to war with whomever the Federation wanted.

The idea was a good one, but he knew it would not be long before a peace was declared between the warring parties. Then, once the Federation realized how dangerous his people could be, Khan and his people would once again be put 'in storage,' safely tucked away until the next war.

Khan refused to be a tool that the Federation could pull out and put away only as needed. He wanted to live, and could not do that if he was asleep and frozen in a tube.

So, the only option was to flee this world and start anew, and if he did manage to find a planet suitable enough for Ria to join them, then perhaps she could help his people adjust in ways that they could not before.

'_We need to evolve in certain ways, but we have no way of doing that without a teacher or an example to follow_.'

It was the only way for his people to survive. If they remained war-like and focused completely on fighting and destroying, it would only be a matter of time before the Federation sent a fleet of starships to destroy _them_. If they at least made a show of changing their ways, there was the greater chance of survival, and perhaps even being at peace with not only themselves, but with others as well. Besides, having allies willing to trade things tended to make any civilization flourish.

Of course, Khan did not expect instantaneous results, if his plan worked. He and his people were genetically engineered to fight, but it was worth the effort to change so that they could carry on in this new age.

'_And the scientists among us are working on a way to change the hostile tempers we possess. Perhaps, once that is done, we can change faster_.'

Not that he wanted their survival instincts to be removed, nor their willingness to fight for their right to live. Those would be critical to create their ideal world and society; to lose those would mean death for them all.

Shaking those thoughts from his head, Khan turned his eyes towards Ria, who was studying the buildings around them. He had noticed her doing that many times before, and could not understand why she did it.

"What fascinates you about the buildings so much?" he asked, getting her attention.

"They're beautiful," she replied, surprising him. "I mean; they are tall and made of metal, stone, and glass, but each one is so different from the others that it makes me appreciate the effort that went into designing and building them."

Turning to look at him, Ria saw his confused and surprised expression. "For example, I like the way one looks like the sail on a boat, while another has silvery-white stone and blue glass windows. Both are different, but beautiful in their own ways."

Ah, so she was an admirer of the artistic. Well, that could be useful to him, too –his people had no real interest or appreciation in anything having to do with architecture, art, or music, all of which spoke of a cultured, sophisticated world. This was yet another thing she could be useful in teaching them.

"I should go," Ria suddenly declared as she rose from her chair. "My friend told me that an important starship is traveling back to Earth and should be here in a few days. I would like to talk to her about the ship, its crew and its travels before it arrives." She was practically shaking with excitement, and the broad smile on her face spoke volumes.

In the month he had known her, Khan had never seen her so excited. It made him curious as to why she was so happy with the arrival of this particular space craft. "Which starship is it?" he asked.

"The _Enterprise_," she declared, picking up her handbag. "My friend told me that it's been away for five years, exploring deep space. I'm hoping I can talk to a few of the crew while they're on Earth. I've got so many questions, and I'm sure that they're the ones who can answer them."

She gave him a smile. "Tomorrow afternoon, John?"

He nodded, and a moment later, she was gone, leaving him to the last of his coffee, which he quickly drank down. '_So, the Enterprise is returning, hmm? I do hope I get another chance to speak with Captain Kirk_. _We have __**so**__ much to catch up on_.'

* * *

AN: Shorter chapter this time, but I know everyone's probably excited to see some old faces, so I'm moving it along. I hope everyone enjoyed themselves, and will leave a review? Thanks!


	7. The Starship Enterprise

Disclaimer: I own nothing _**Star Trek**_-related…though I might consider the idea of beaming Kirk, Spock, Khan, and the actors who play them to my house, once I manage to construct my own transporter. Until then, nothing is mine except original characters.

AN: Again, I am so sorry for not updating as frequently as I usually did before! I'm hoping that with summer coming to a close, I'll have fewer things to do and more time to write and update. Also, with _**Into Darkness**_ out on DVD, I'm hoping to get a major kick of motivation and inspiration.

But, anyway, here's the next chapter, and with quite a few familiar faces! Enjoy, and please don't forget to review!

**Chapter 7: The Starship **_**Enterprise**_**:**

I hated to admit it, but I was totally acting like a fan girl. Here I was, standing inside Starfleet Headquarters, waiting for the crew of the infamous Starship _Enterprise_ to come out of their debriefing with Starfleet Command, my eyes focused nervously on the door.

"Relax," Lydia hissed into my ear. "Your constant moving around is distracting."

Pouting slightly, I stopped shifting around and instead looked around the room where we were seated. It was a large, open area of the central building of Starfleet Command Headquarters, and one of the few places that was open to the public to linger and walk around. Lydia and I stood out like sore thumbs, since we were in civilian clothes and everyone else was in their very somber, dark grey Starfleet uniforms.

"Thanks for coming with me," I whispered to Lydia as a group of Starfleet officers walked by, files under their arms as they spoke rapidly and quietly with each other. "I owe you for this."

I didn't tell her that I'd already gone in the public records to look up everything possible about it. The_ Enterprise's_ journey had been Earth's first attempt at deep space exploration, and had been away for half a decade. I wanted so badly to meet the ones who had traveled on that mission –even the lowest-ranking member of the crew had to have some incredible stories about their journeys through space!

She laughed and gave me an indulgent grin. "The_ Enterprise_ is a star in the Federation's fleet," she said, looking around at the crowd. "It has some of the best minds in Starfleet onboard, as well as one of the most reckless and daring captains to ever command a ship. I've wanted a glimpse of the man for ages."

"You mean James Kirk," I said, remembering the crew manifest. "I've read about him in Starfleet's public records."

Not that there were many records that the public were allowed to see, but whatever I'd found, I memorized. Some were logs, but most were scientific observations that Starfleet had gone over and released for ordinary citizens to read-up on, if they were interested in that kind of thing.

I was no scientist, of course, but that didn't stop me. I mostly focused on whatever little bits and pieces about the crew that had been distributed for public reading (which were few and far between). There weren't many images of the crew, but if there were written details about their appearance, I memorized those so that I knew what they looked like, in case I ever met them in real life. It was sort of stalker-like, but I really did want to ask them some questions about space travel –the idea was so fascinating, I couldn't help but be interested in it.

"A few of my contacts in Starfleet told me about Kirk," Lydia whispered as another crowd of officers went by. "He's a good man and a captain willing to sacrifice himself for his crew, but Kirk is _very_ popular with women, so keep your guard up around him."

Oh, a player, is he? I'd have to keep that in mind if I ever came across him. '_I doubt he'd try anything with me, since I'm probably not his type_,' I silently pondered, '_but I'd still better keep myself together if he tries_.'

Just then, an announcement was made over the intercom that the meeting hall was emptying, and that the next one was due to start in twenty minutes. I saw a flood of Starfleet personnel flood out the many doors to that immense room, and struggled to stay in my seat as the flood of people moved around us.

"There are so many," I breathed, watching the crowd.

"Well, it takes a lot of people to run a starship," Lydia teased. "Although most of them are probably Starfleet personnel who came to hear whatever it was the _Enterprise_ crew had to report."

She suddenly grew serious. "But before you start getting the urge to tackle one of them, promise me something?" I looked at her, wondering what she was going to say. "If you snag Commander Spock, don't ask or say anything about Vulcan –he lost his mother when the planet was destroyed. Even six years later, he's still very sensitive about it, and since his mother was human, his emotions tend to run pretty high whenever she, or her death, is mentioned."

Oh, yeah, that might be a good point. I'd read about the disaster a few weeks ago, when I started reading up on the _Enterprise's_ crew, and had thought to at least give the Commander my sympathies, but it might not be a good idea. Even though he was half Vulcan and followed their custom of hiding his emotions, the last thing I needed was to provoke and upset him by bringing up a touchy subject!

Nodding, I decided to move on to a different subject; preferably one that wasn't so sad and depressing.

"I really appreciate you coming with me, Lydia," I gratefully said again. "I don't think I'd have had the nerve to come here on my own."

To my surprise, she shifted a bit uncomfortably in her seat. "Well, to tell you the truth, Ria, I was going to come here anyway. Not today, but a couple days from now, when everything calmed down. I only came today because you wanted to so badly."

I gave her a suspicious look. "Why were you going to come here?" I asked, watching her facial expressions. "You said you had contacts in Starfleet. Were you going to meet them?"

Before she could reply, a male voice with a Southern drawl called out, "Lydia!"

We turned our heads in the direction of the voice, and Lydia's face lit up. "Len!" she said, waving at him to join us.

I immediately felt like an outsider as the two hugged and exchanged friendly kisses on the cheek. I quickly avoided looking at them, directing my gaze to the ceiling, the windows that faced the streets of San Francisco, and the crowd that was still swarming all throughout the room. My eyes eventually found their way back to Lydia and her friend, who were both starting to remember that I was still standing there next to them.

"I'm an inconsiderate idiot," Lydia said, giving me an apologetic look. "Adrianna, this is Doctor Leonard McCoy, ship's doctor on the _Enterprise_. Len, this is Adrianna Drake, also known as Ria."

"Ria, it's nice to meet you," Dr. McCoy greeted me in a friendly Southern-accented voice, all while offering his hand to shake.

"And you, Doctor," I said, taking the offered hand even as I gave Lydia a _look_. She'd never mentioned she knew someone on the _Enterprise_ crew, even after finding out about my fascination with them!

He waved my words aside with his free hand. "Call me Bones."

Lydia gave him a look of amusement and disbelief. "_Bones_? Where'd you get a nickname like that?"

"From me," replied a younger, male voice from behind Dr. McCoy.

I looked around the good doctor and found myself facing a very handsome young man with a cocky grin on his face. Tall and physically fit, with stylish blonde hair and blue eyes, he was enough to make any woman sigh with admiration and appreciation.

After giving him my own admiring glance, I quickly squashed any kind of romantic ideas. '_He's just too good-looking and he knows it_,' I firmly told myself.

"Bones, why don't you introduce me to your friends?" the stranger asked, smacking the doctor on the shoulder as he held out a hand for me to shake. "James Kirk, Captain of the _Enterprise_."

Oh, so _this_ was the guy Lydia was warning me about! '_Yup; definitely a playboy_.' He did seem like a nice guy, and was supposed to be a good captain, but I doubt that he'd be able to stay loyal to one woman for very long. '_He does make for some interesting eye-candy, though_; _I have to admit that_.'

I took the offered hand and smiled back at him. "Adrianna Drake," I replied. "But my friends call me Ria."

Captain Kirk shook my hand and released it, flashing me a charming grin in the process. "And you can call me Jim, like my friends do. Isn't that right, Bones?"

Dr. McCoy rolled his eyes, but before he could say a word, a Vulcan came up behind them, with a dark-skinned woman at his side, the two of them formally dressed in Starfleet uniforms.

"Doctor," the Vulcan greeted him. "Captain." From the way he addressed his superior officer, and if I remembered the crew manifest of the ship correctly, this had to be Commander Spock, second in command of the _Enterprise_.

"Correction," Jim Kirk said, offering me a wink. "Everyone except Spock calls me Jim. He's the only one who refers to me by my rank even when we're off-duty."

I hid a smile. He was so friendly and open, which made it so easy for me to forget that this man was captain of a starship and deserved to be addressed respectfully.

"I assure you, it is as much a sign of respect as it is a matter of fact, Captain," Commander Spock calmly insisted, the perfect image of a proper Vulcan, for all he was half human. "And as we are in the company of unknown individuals, such casual familiarity with my superior officer in a public setting is inappropriate."

Jim rolled his eyes and shrugged. "Sorry," he apologized, turning to me and Lydia. "I've been trying to break him of this habit for years."

I tried to hide a grin, but failed. "And how's that going so far?" I teased, earning a smile from not only Jim, but Dr. McCoy (I had yet to register him as 'Bones') as well.

"Not too good," Jim replied, giving an exaggerated sigh. "As you can see."

Spock opened his mouth to object, but was cut off by the woman beside him, who pushed Jim aside and offered her hand. "Nyota Uhura," she introduced herself. "I work communications on the _Enterprise_."

"Adrianna Drake," I said. "Or Ria, if you'd like."

"Uhura," she said. "Never did like using my first name with other people." She turned and introduced herself to Lydia, who returned the gesture.

"Lydia and I went to medical school together," Dr. McCoy said, crossing his arms, hazel eyes giving our mutual friend a fond look. "One of the smartest students in the class, and what does she do? Turn down a prime job in Starfleet to work here on Earth!"

Lydia waved a finger in his face. "Hey, people still need doctors here on Earth," she retorted. "Besides, I've got a good job here in San Francisco. It's rewarding on a lot of different levels, thank-you-very-much, so don't you go lecturing me, Leonard McCoy!"

He raised his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright," he said. "Still, I know your dad was disappointed you didn't become a ship's doctor."

I clearly hadn't known any of that, but there was one thing I was glad for: if Lydia had been in Starfleet, I'd have probably had another doctor treating me, one that wasn't so willing to give so much time and energy to taking care of me. Was I lucky on _that_ one!

"So, would you to lovely ladies care to join us for lunch?" Jim asked, throwing around his charm again. "The food at the Starfleet cafeteria tends to be uninspiring."

Spock gave him a puzzled look. "I find the items served here rather nourishing," he remarked. "It is most suitable, as it contains the nutrients required for maintaining a healthy physical and mental form."

I almost laughed as Jim rolled his eyes. "Lydia and I would love to join you." I turned towards Commander Spock and politely said, "And I would very much appreciate it if you were to inform me of as much as you're allowed to reveal about the _Enterprise_ and its journey through deep space."

It was kind of funny, watching Spock perk up at the idea of giving long and detailed explanations, but Lydia put her hand on my arm. "Unfortunately, I know for a fact that you're all going to be busy for the next few days, giving your reports to various departments of Starfleet. Maybe we can do lunch when you're finished?"

The others nodded. "We should have everything wrapped up in three or four days," Jim said, looking towards Spock for confirmation. His second officer nodded. "We can do lunch then. Bones, you'll let them know the day and time, right?"

At that moment, an announcement over the intercom called for the _Enterprise's_ officers to report to their next meeting. Bidding a quick goodbye to the group of people I hoped to call 'friends,' Lydia and I headed out, leaving them to their work.

"Well, since it's just you and me, how about you come to my place for lunch?" my best friend suggested. "It's been a while since you and I have chatted."

I agreed with the idea immediately. Besides, I didn't need to meet John until tomorrow; I'd told him that I was going out with Lydia to visit Starfleet Headquarters, and he had been very understanding about the whole thing. "Yeah, I think I've had enough excitement for one day."

* * *

"So, what do you think of them?" Lydia asked as she got her own plate of food from the replicator and sat down at the table.

I looked at her plate and winced. It was a strange seafood dish served on another world, with some components I didn't recognize, and probably didn't want to know about.

Even after being out of my cryogenic sleep for so long, I hadn't yet gotten up the nerve to try foods that came from another Federation planet. I hadn't even managed to get used to certain Earth foods that had been discovered while I'd been frozen, so going for something not even from Earth was too big a step for me right now.

'_Besides, there are food allergies I need to consider before I try anything from off-world_.'

I wrinkled my nose as Lydia stabbed what looked like a large squid tentacle on her plate and took a healthy bite out of it. "I think they're great people," I said. "Commander Spock is probably a walking volume of Starfleet rules and regulations, and is the image of the typical Vulcan, but he seems okay."

"And the others?" she hinted, giving me a pointed look.

Ah, so she wanted know if I liked her old college friend, too. "Dr. McCoy, Uhura and Captain Kirk seem decent, too," I put in, trying to focus on my salad and not what was on Lydia's plate. "I'm looking forward to that lunch with them. I've got a billion questions, and I'm hoping that they can answer some of them."

"It's Lieutenant Uhura," Lydia corrected me. "And they are decent people. Leonard McCoy and I go way back, and I can tell from the way he is around them that he likes and admires the people he works with. From the infrequent messages he sent me from space, and after meeting them, I can probably guess correctly that the crew of the _Enterprise_ must be a great group."

We ate in silence for a while, with me thinking about what I could ask the men and woman I'd been introduced to without seeming nosy or rude. I could only guess what Lydia was thinking about.

After a few minutes, I found out.

"You seem really curious about Starfleet," she said, trying to sound casual. "I mean, you were curious about other things before, but it seems that whenever Starfleet or the subject of space travel pops up in conversation, you're all ears."

I shrugged. "I find it fascinating, that's all. I mean; the idea of going through space, exploring it and seeing new things and species just sounds amazing, doesn't it?"

Sighing, I put my fork down. "I also know that the only way to do it is to attend Starfleet Academy, and graduate with high scores. Since I'm not exactly up-to-date on most of this century, there's no way I could even get admitted to the Academy, much less get to travel on a starship. So asking the _Enterprise_ crew all my questions is the next best thing to actually doing it."

Now it was Lydia's turn to sigh. "I just want you to be sure that space travel is something you're willing to dedicate your life to –and willing to give your life for. Starfleet is a noble calling, but it's also a dangerous line of work. Everyone who joins and graduates from the Academy knows what they're signing up for: the possibility of losing your life to serve the Federation. I want to be sure that you understand that as well."

I swallowed hard. I knew that Starfleet was like the armed forces back in my day: people who signed up to protect and serve their countries, and were willing to die for what they believed in. In this day and age, some humans were still willing to do the same, only they also did it to assist other races and to explore the universe. They did this to better not only Earth, but the entire Federation. It _was_ a noble calling, but it was also one that I wasn't sure I was ready to involve myself in –I didn't feel mature enough, emotionally or mentally, for that yet.

"I understand that, Lydia," I softly told her. "That's why I want to talk to them. I want to hear about it from some of the best people to tell me about it, and this is my chance to ask my questions and get some answers. I could read a report, but it isn't the same as getting my information from the person who experienced it. I want to _know_, and they're the ones who can give me what I'm looking for."

She sighed again. "Well, go ahead and ask them, but don't be surprised if they can't reveal everything. I've no doubt that some of the things they've seen are going to be classified by Starfleet, so tread lightly with those questions."

Suddenly, she grinned. "I don't want to find out that you've angered Starfleet and gotten thrown into a jail cell somewhere for being annoying."

We both snickered and finished our meal, the two of us discussing what questions I might be allowed to ask, and what was best kept quiet about –at least until I got to know Kirk, Uhura, Spock and Dr. McCoy better.

When we were done and the table cleared, I headed back to my apartment, intent on making a long list of questions, and silently hoping that at least some of them might be answered soon.

* * *

Khan did _not_ like the idea of Ria meeting Kirk and his crewmates. If she did and found that she liked their company, she might be tempted to join them on their starship. That was something he did not relish the idea of.

He already knew that she admired Starfleet and their purpose, but everyone knew that the _Enterprise_ and Kirk's crew were some of the best in the Fleet –was it any wonder that Ria would do her best to try and meet them, if only to sate her curiosity of their travels?

Stretched out on his pallet on the warehouse floor, Khan looked at the ceiling and pondered how to deal with this situation. He knew there was little to no chance of Ria successfully applying and being accepted into the Academy, but there _was_ a chance that they would accept her into the civilian division of Starfleet. With the civilian division, Ria might find a way of focusing on one particular area of expertise and put it to good use aboard a starship, which she seemed intent on achieving.

So it was a very good thing she didn't know about that particular option, wasn't it? Otherwise, he would be forced to act, and that wouldn't bode well for anyone.

* * *

AN: Review?


	8. Possibilities

Disclaimer: I own nothing Star Trek-related…though I might consider the idea of beaming Kirk, Spock, Khan, and the actors who play them to my house, once I manage to construct my own transporter. Until then, nothing is mine except original characters.

AN: Once more, I have been pulled aside by real life; other than that, I can give no other excuse for my lack of update, and hope that everyone can forgive me for being late with posting this chapter. Anyway, please enjoy, and don't forget to review!

**Chapter 8: Possibilities:**

"Stop _fidgeting_," Lydia muttered for the tenth time as we waited in the main lobby of Starfleet Headquarters. "I know you're excited, but if they see the big grin on your face, the security guards might think you're up to something."

Rolling my eyes with a sigh of resignation, I did my best to suppress my excitement, all while keeping my eyes peeled for the other members of our lunch party.

It was hard staying calm, though. Just yesterday, Dr. McCoy had contacted Lydia to schedule a noon lunch for today. Miracle of miracles, Lydia had today off, so she was able to join us, which meant I was beyond thrilled about having not to face the _Enterprise_ crew alone.

Tucked in my purse was a small data pad with a list of questions that I hopefully could ask without getting anyone in trouble. Whether or not those questions would be answered was yet to be determined, but I still hoped.

"Just keep calm, Ria," Lydia had said yesterday when telling me the news. "I don't want you scaring the hell out of Kirk and his crew when we go to eat."

And I really was trying to stay still and not freak out about the whole thing –it was just difficult to do when one of the best crews in Starfleet was going to have lunch with you.

"There you lovely ladies are!" someone said, coming up from behind, causing us to turn.

It was Jim, and with him was a smiling Dr. McCoy, a somber Commander Spock, and a clearly annoyed Lieutenant Uhura, who stood rolling her eyes behind him. I had no idea why she looked like she wanted to smack Jim upside the head, but I had the feeling it was because he was trying to be flirtatious again.

I wasn't going to fall for his charms, however -I knew better than to make a go for a player like James Kirk. "Yup, we're here!" I cheerfully said. "Let's go eat; I'm starved!"

The men didn't need to be told twice, though Commander Spock didn't show the eagerness to head to lunch –the Vulcan simply nodded his agreement and watched impassively as his captain offered me an arm. I caught the twinkle in those blue eyes, and couldn't help smiling at him.

"Don't even think about it," I replied, even as I took his arm. "I know what's going through that handsome head of yours. Trust me; being overly flattering or flirtatious will get you nothing except a slap upside the back of that same head."

Jim actually looked a little surprised, but that quickly melted away into a smile. "Fair enough," he said, keeping my fingers tucked in his uniform-clad elbow. "But that still won't stop me from flirting with you. I tend to do that with pretty girls."

I couldn't hold back a laugh. "Well, as long as you know that I'm leaving the restaurant _without_ your company, that's fine with me."

"Nicely said," Uhura muttered from behind me, "Though it takes a strong woman to resist the Captain's charms."

I looked back at her with a smile. "As long as I've got backup, I think I'll be fine."

She caught the hint; a smile forming as Jim began to look a little worried about us females teaming up. "Done and done." Uhura looked over at her commanding officer. "I think we can hold out rather well, don't you, Ria?"

We both laughed as Jim sighed and looked dejected as we headed for a nearby eatery.

* * *

Sometimes it really does pay to be on good terms with the right people. I hadn't expected that in this century, but the system still seemed to work.

In this case, dining with the _Enterprise_ Captain and his most senior crewmates got us a private dining room at the restaurant. I was thankful that we were away from the chatter of the crowds, and that I'd be able to ask my questions without a room full of people hearing it and thinking I was weird for what I was asking.

Our orders were swiftly taken, with several of the Enterprise crew ordering alcoholic beverages. I hadn't ordered a single drink in the entire time since I'd woken up, and didn't intend to start, for fear of being unable to stop. It would have been too easy for someone in my situation of life to become an alcoholic, so I stayed as far away from the stuff as possible. Even the replicator in my apartment wouldn't serve me alcohol, primarily because I'd ordered it not to unless I gave a very specific verbal command code.

As I watched the others receive their drinks, which came in a variety of different colors, scents and textures, I carefully considered the options on the menu. This was one of those eateries that served a little bit of everything, so there were a lot of Earth choices, but a good dozen others were from different planets belonging to the Federation. This meant that, for instance, Commander Spock (whom I still had trouble referring to as just plain 'Spock,' due to his formal attitude) could order a few Vulcan dishes, and not have to make a special request for it.

But that didn't stop a few of the others from making a few choices that weren't originally from Earth. After hearing Lydia order some kind of strange fish served with its own eggs (or caviar, I suppose) as a side dish, I decided that I probably didn't want to know what the others were going to go with. I focused on the menu, and decided on a particular favorite of mine.

"Spaghetti and beef meatballs," I told the waiter, who nodded and made a note on his data pad.

Once the server was gone, Jim leaned back in his chair and gave me a questioning look. "Spaghetti and meatballs? Not something I hear people order very often in one of the best eateries in San Francisco."

From his seat on my left, Dr. McCoy snorted. "Hardly the best; that's reserved for a little dive by the waterfront, which serves the best fried chicken in the city."

I perked up. "You'll have to tell me where that is, Dr. McCoy," I insisted. "I love fried chicken."

He immediately sat up straight, hazel-green eyes sparking with interest. "Really? It's hard for a Southern guy like me to meet a woman who appreciates _real_ fried chicken, not the replicated stuff they serve around places like this."

I shrugged. "I'm all about real food. Replicated stuff is all well and good, I suppose, but real food prepared by a real person leaves room for human error, or a little experimentation on the cook's behalf. If you ask a replicator for fried chicken, that's what you get –but if you go to a real cook and ask for fried chicken, you might get chicken that's been cooked in one kind of batter or another, maybe with a bit of extra spice for flavor. I like the variety and the little bit of the unexpected that you get with a real cook or chef."

"That's it exactly!" he exclaimed, pointing and tapping the table with a forefinger. "People today don't appreciate good, honest cooking. I'd make it myself, but I'm a doctor, not a chef." Then he paused. "And call me Bones. Being called 'doctor' is something I leave to my patients."

"What about being called Leonard?" I asked. "And how did Captain Kirk give you the nickname of 'Bones' anyway?"

He shrugged. "I never liked my first name; it's old-fashioned, and shortening it just doesn't make any kind of nickname that I like.

"As for Kirk, when we first met, I told him my ex-wife took everything in the divorce, and all I had left was my bones. That's when I got the nickname. It stuck all the way through our time in Starfleet Academy, and when I became ship's doctor on the Enterprise, it stayed with me, probably because it was as good a nickname as any for a doctor, I guess."

I had to laugh. "It really is," I teasingly agreed. "And it does seem to suit you."

At this point, our food arrived, the servers moving in sync as they placed the warm plates before us. One of them remained behind to make sure we didn't need anything, and when we replied that we were fine, the waiter promptly promised to be back in half an hour, and left us to it.

We all immediately dug into our meals, and I lost myself in eating. All around me, conversation flowed about what'd been happening on Earth while the _Enterprise_ had been in deep space. Lydia told them what she knew, and chatter went back and forth about some new weather technology that was being developed in Africa, to help with some sort of atmospheric issues that were lingering over the continent. That was pretty much all I understood about the topic, so I stayed focused on eating my lunch with one ear open.

"So, Ria, tell us about you," Uhura said during a lull in conversation. "We know that Lydia here is a doctor, but what about you? Do you have a profession, or are you unattached to an occupation?"

There was no shame in not having a job (or, this century's version of one), but I still felt rather guilty about not having something to contribute to this new world and society. Lydia, who sat to my right, saw something in my face, and decided to jump in.

"I'm afraid Ria's situation in life is rather complicated," she said, reaching over to give my arm a comforting squeeze.

Commander Spock gave her a pointed look. "Complicated in what manner, Doctor? Are you permitted to inform us of it, or are you forbidden to speak of her situation due to her being your patient?"

"A little of both, Commander," Lydia replied. "I could tell you some of it, but I won't, not if Ria doesn't want me to."

I wasn't sure I wanted my life's story laid out in front of a bunch of strangers, but given that these people had explored some of the far reaches of space, I figured that they'd seen and experienced some pretty strange stuff. Maybe they wouldn't think my situation so strange. Besides, they had to be able to keep a secret, given that they were in Starfleet, so I could probably trust them with my story.

"I guess I could tell you about it," I said, echoing my thoughts. "It's kind of a strange and long story, though, so I hope you guys are comfortable."

* * *

It took a good couple hours to tell them about my life before and after being a human Popsicle, though I left out the depths I was taking in studying up. I didn't tell them about my semi-friend John, either, since it wasn't really important and was more of a personal thing that they wouldn't likely be interested in.

When I was finished, the group looked torn between disbelief, puzzlement, wonder, and several other emotions that I couldn't read from their expressions.

"So you're over three hundred years old?" Bones said, trying to clear that up.

"I figure more like four," Lydia said. "She's from pre-World War III, so she's older than that."

That only made him looked even more thoughtful, though not as much as Spock –the Vulcan looked lost in his thoughts, like they were going a million miles a minute and he was trying to keep up with them. The frown on his face was as close to an emotional expression as I'd ever seen on a Vulcan, though I guess it was one he probably wore often when dealing with humans.

Uhura looked slightly doubtful about my story, but Jim looked like he believed me. In fact, he flat out said, "So I guess that makes you the oldest human I've ever met."

Lydia and I laughed a bit uneasily, but accepted the joke for what it was. "I guess so," I replied. "You believe me, I take it?"

Jim shrugged, his face turning serious. "You aren't the first person I've met who was frozen in a cryogenic tube."

I stared at him, my heart beating fast. "What do you mean?"

Was it possible there were others like me out in the world? If so, that left a whole new realm of possibilities open to me. I could have friends who would know the same things I did, if they were from the same era; and even if they were from a later time, they would still be people that I might be able to form friendships and common interests with.

The entire _Enterprise_ group looked distinctly uncomfortable as Lydia and I exchanged glances that were a cross between confusion and surprise. Could the person Kirk mentioned be a classified file that Starfleet didn't want him to talk about?

"I would have to remind the Captain that speaking of that particular personage, as well as the incidents that they were involved in, is against the orders of Starfleet Command," Spock declared to his commanding officer, as well as the other Starfleet members around the table.

Lydia and I quickly caught on. Even though I was sure that Jim was a good captain, I had the feeling that he wouldn't hesitate to 'bend' (or flat out break) the rules, if he thought it was needed. I also knew that Spock, even though he was Jim's friend, wouldn't hesitate to 'tattle' on his captain –from what I remembered about Vulcans, they couldn't lie, and were huge believers in following the rules.

So, to keep Jim from getting in trouble, Lydia and I were swift to stop him from breaking any Starfleet rules.

"Oh, it's alright," Lydia hastily said, waving a hand as though to brush the topic away. "We can live without knowing."

Jim's blue eyes glanced around at all his crewmembers. "I'm sure a very short, very general summary of what happened can be shared, without risking or orders from Starfleet."

Spock looked like he wanted to protest, but Uhura elbowed him in the side. "I'm sure that'll be fine," she agreed. "Just make sure it's short, quick, and not too detailed."

Nodding, Jim turned his attention towards me. "Let's just say that this person was not as nice as you, and after they were thawed out, they did some extremely terrible things before being brought to justice. They did a lot of damage, and I can tell you that everyone who encountered this person will never be the same, in the worst sort of way."

Damn, that was _not_ at all what I was expecting. So much for my bright, hopeful ideas of a friend who I had something in common with!

"But that doesn't mean we can't be friends," Bones put in, breaking the tension that had been building in the room.

"Absolutely," Uhura said, giving me a friendly smile. "So, as a friend, I would like to ask Ria what she intends to do with herself in this century?"

I sighed and looked at my now empty plate. "I know it sounds silly, and practically impossible, but I would very much like to travel through space on a starship. It sounds tacky, but I really would like to travel the galaxy and see what it is that I've been missing out on while I was in my coma."

Oddly enough, no one laughed –in fact, they all seemed to perk up at bit. Even Spock, who could have passed as a statue, looked attentive at the direction the conversation had taken.

"There is a division of Starfleet which accepts and trains civilians in various fields of study," the Vulcan informed me, catching me by surprise. "If it is your wish to journey or serve aboard a starship, it would be wise for you to enroll in the required courses, all of which will prepare you for the hardships that will occur during the ship's travels through space."

Oh, now there was an idea! I wasn't afraid of studying or working hard, and hadn't I been doing that anyway in trying to catch up to the year I was now in?

"I'll go check it out tomorrow," I promised. "Thank you, Commander. I very much appreciate this information, as I was not aware of this program."

He simply nodded graciously and picked up his water glass, the very image of calm satisfaction.

"You know, Ria, I'm willing to bet that there's a way around all that," Jim casually said, lounging in his seat.

Spock made to protest, but Jim waved for him to keep quiet. "I've got a meeting with some of the Admirals in a few days. We're supposed to talk about the _Enterprise's_ next mission into space, and I think I'll bring up the idea of having you aboard."

I stared at him in disbelief. "And how are you going to pull that off?" I retorted. "You can't just tell the higher-ups in Starfleet that you want a regular person with no valuable skills aboard your ship! They're going to want a reason for my being on the _Enterprise_; they won't do it on your say-so."

Jim shrugged. "I'll think of something. I can be pretty convincing, when I need to be."

Uhura rolled her eyes. "Sometimes," she muttered. "And only rarely does being diplomatic work out well for you."

I chuckled as Jim smiled and gave me a knowing look. "Trust me, Ria. I'll think of something to convince the Admirals to let you aboard the _Enterprise_, either for this mission, or the next one. So, either way, you'll be aboard my ship."

He grinned. "Besides, I wouldn't wish four years of Starfleet Academy on anyone, no matter how many people gloat about it being the best time of their lives. They're all stiff as titanium rods over there, and if there's a way for me to help you around all that, I'll do it."

Uhura snorted. "In the meantime, you come to Starfleet Headquarters, and I'll show you a few things that will be useful. You'll need to know how to fire a phaser, to fight hand-to-hand, and to think on your feet."

"You will also need to know how to follow orders from the higher-ranking officers of the ship," Spock informed me. "Your life, as well as the lives of those around you, could rely on whether or not you are willing to obey the commands given to you, whether you agree with them or not."

Hmm, that could be a slight problem. I didn't like people telling me what to do, but if the lives of other people depended on it, then I guess I'd have to learn to do whatever it was Jim or Spock told me to. Besides, it was their ship, and they'd all graduated from Academy and earned their places aboard the _Enterprise_.

Meanwhile, Jim was willing to hand me a position on his ship when I hadn't done a thing to earn it. I wanted to go to the Academy and actually learn everything I needed to in order to find a position on a ship, but what if I applied and they rejected my application based on everything I didn't know? If I tried to work and study up on everything I'd missed, there was the chance that I'd be too old to be accepted into the Academy, and then there'd be _no_ chance of getting a position on a starship!

'_When opportunity knocks, open the door and let it in_!' I told myself.

Looking at the group, I said, "Thanks, everyone. I'd appreciate any help you could give me."

Bones, however, sighed. "Well, if you're going out into space, you'll need to be vaccinated against disease. When you're done getting beaten by Uhura, come see me and I'll give you everything you'll need to be treated with."

I swallowed. I hated shots, even in this era! '_Is it too late to change my mind_?' I wondered as talk turned towards the different kinds of lessons I'd need, and soon.

* * *

AN: Again, sorry for the lateness in posting. I'll try and do better, but I'm afraid my time really isn't my own. I am grateful to everyone for following and reading, though, and I hope you'll all stick with me until I finally wrap up this story (which looks like won't be for a while). Thanks again, and please review.


	9. Training News

Disclaimer: I own nothing _**Star Trek**_-related…though I might consider the idea of beaming Kirk, Spock, Khan, and the actors who play them to my house, once I manage to construct my own transporter. Until then, nothing is mine except original characters.

AN: I am so sorry for not updating sooner! I was down with a cold for over a week, and couldn't even get out of bed, much less write. But here is the next chapter; thanks so much for waiting!

**Chapter 9: Training News:**

After lunch with the Jim and his officers, I was immediately offered (and accepted) several private training courses with Uhura. I doubted that I would get more than a week or so of training from her, but anything I learned now would mean something less to learn later.

I was excited, nervous, and both eager and terrified to begin these lessons, but I also knew that if I wanted to get anywhere near the interior of a starship, I had a lot to learn. And even though I felt that I might not do that well, I was determined to try.

But first, I'd have to tell John why I wouldn't be able to meet up with him for a while…

* * *

It took every ounce of willpower Khan had to keep himself from throwing the table through the window of the café.

"I do not understand," he said, trying to remain calm as Ria gave him an apologetic look.

She sighed and leaned back in her chair. "I've met with the captain of the _Enterprise_, as well as some of his senior officers, and they know about how much I want to head into space. Captain Kirk has generously offered to speak to Starfleet's Council on my behalf, informing them of my wishes while suggesting that I might be a valuable asset to him and his ship.

"While he's doing that, a few of Kirk's higher officers will give me some basic training, so that I know at least a few things when it comes to traveling through space on a starship."

Khan did not like where this was going. "So you fully intend to join Starfleet?" he asked, wanting to be sure.

Ria shrugged and looked both hopeful and discouraged. "I would join Starfleet, but I'm worried that I'm not smart enough to be admitted into the Academy. They want the best and brightest, and I know I don't fit into either one of those categories. With my upbringing and limited knowledge of technology, there's no possible way I would be admitted as I am now; even if I studied hard for years and eventually caught up, I'd probably be too old to be allowed to even apply to the Academy, much less get accepted."

"That is true," Khan admitted, knowing she was right.

"But there is a civilian educational department in the Academy, so maybe if I learn enough, I'll be accepted into it," Ria excitedly told him, hope glowing in her eyes. "I don't think the civilian educational requirements will be as difficult as the Academy's, so there's a chance I could get in, learn everything I'll need, and graduate so that I can be put onto a starship."

Khan doubted every aspect of every idea she presented to him, but he decided to say nothing. Though he was loath to admit it, there was a _slight_ chance that the civilian division of the Academy would accept her and provide the education she needed, but in all likelihood, Ria would be rejected from there, too. She was willing to work hard and learn, he admitted that, but there were so many basic things she did _not_ know that it was unlikely she would achieve her goals.

He would have told her all this, but it would have been a bad idea; it would put an end to their association, and Khan was not willing to give that up at any cost. So rather than tell her the truth, he would have to sit and do nothing while Ria was going to be privately tutored by some of the highest and most experienced crewmembers of the _Enterprise_!

He clearly did not like this. If Kirk and his crew were successful in training her, Ria would be aboard a starship before long, and Khan would lose her forever. He had thought of asking her to join his own crew, but now he knew there was no possibility of her agreeing. Kirk and the _Enterprise_ crew were offering Ria the very thing she wanted: the very real option of being part of Starfleet and traveling through space, just as she dreamed. If she were presented with any other options, Khan would not win.

That was a pity. Things had been going so well, too.

* * *

On the day Ria had gone to dine with Kirk and his people, Khan had been busy with his own plans.

After his daily meetings with Ria, Khan had managed to slip past Starfleet's security and gain access to their computerized records. He did not try to delve into their classified files; it would attract attention, and at the present, that was the last thing he wanted. No, he wanted the most basic files that no one would be keeping a close watch on: this happened to include the lists of starships that were in the process of being built; those that were in space; and the ones that were soon going to be decommissioned.

Like any man of his background, Khan _had_ thought about taking over a state-of-the-art vessel, one that would make his enemies quiver in fear when they saw it. Years ago, he had considered taking the _Vengeance_ from under Admiral Marcus's nose, but the opportunity had never presented itself, and so Khan had been forced to literally pry control of that ship from the Admiral's cold, dead hands. That venture had failed miserably, and from that failure, Khan had been forced to consider other ways to obtain a ship for his purposes.

With few options open to him, he had then conceived the idea that, since the newest ships would always be heavily crewed and constantly getting attention from other Federation ships, perhaps it would be best to take a vessel that was of an older model, one that no one would give a second glance.

And the files containing the soon-to-be-decommissioned lists were exactly what he needed.

Ships that were being decommissioned were often torn apart from the interior first, with the inner instruments broken down and the materials used elsewhere, usually to help colonies build their cities. Eventually, after the insides of the ship were dealt with, the exterior materials were recycled and reused to build other ships or distributed to wherever the minerals and metals were most needed.

But before any of this occurred, the ship was brought to a space station above Earth, where it sat empty and unguarded, until work crews could descend on it.

It was ridiculously simple, really. While Starfleet worked out the bureaucracy of scheduling the dismantling of the vessel, it would merely float above the planet, empty and lightly guarded. It not only took almost a year to take a ship apart, and to deal with the removal of the warp core's materials, but it also took quite a while to find the necessary professionals who could successfully do the job. Most of these professionals were focused on building new ships, not taking apart old ones, so it fell to the 'second-rate' engineers and work crews to take the ship apart. Those were also hard to pry away from the construction of new vessels, resulting in a somewhat long wait to get the job finished.

During that wait, Khan and his people would board the ship and take it.

Getting aboard the old vessel would be one of the easy parts: they would simply disguise themselves as Starfleet personnel, fly out on one of the first shuttle crafts to the ship, and take over, quickly and quietly. Since they did not need a great deal of oxygen to function, one of Khan's science officers would slowly drain the air from the ship's passageways until everyone but his crew were unconscious. They would then put the real Starfleet personnel on the shuttles and send them into space as they powered up the ship and fled into the unknown.

Of course, their destination was undecided at present. Khan and his people were unanimous in the decision that the sector they settled in was to be out of the range of the Federation and Starfleet, so that they would not have to answer to them for their theft of the vessel.

Khan also did not want to (as of yet) belong to the Federation and its planets. He and his crew were not prepared for an era where peace was prominent –they had a great deal to learn before then, and even if they were successful in their reeducation, there was still no knowing if they would ever be able to fight their genetically created urge to fight, kill, and survive. Those skills would serve them well at first, but as peace became a priority, being the equivalent of a literal killing machine would only make them look like monsters.

And since everyone knew what had to be done with a monster, they were determined to do everything possible to protect themselves.

* * *

Unfortunately, it was taking a great deal of searching to find the ideal ship –or at least one that would get them away from Federation hands quickly. Starfleet did not decommission ships very often, and looking through the ones that were returning to Earth to be dismantled was time-consuming work.

Khan had set his most experienced researchers to comb through Starfleet's records, looking for just the right ship. Once a promising one was found, the engineers would then look at the specs of a suggested ship, and decide if it was suitable for their needs. So far, only two had turned up, and neither one looked very promising: one was a science vessel with low warp capabilities and weak defense systems; the other was a decades-old cargo ship that was worn from years of dangerous travel through space.

When he was told that both ships were beneath their needs, Khan decided to take a more creative course of actions. His engineers, as well as a few who were more educated in modern technology, were set to work on creating weaponry. Hand weapons would be needed in close-contact situations, but torpedoes would keep enemy ships from pursuing them. These were being carefully constructed, and would be easy to transport to the ship, making it easy to take over.

There would also be surface-to-space defense systems, to be installed on the world they finally settled on. Though he doubted that the surface-to-space system would be ready in time, he felt a rough, portable construction would be adequate –at least they would have some kind of defense system they could install on the planet, once they arrived there.

Those who did not wish to fuss over technology and weaponry were currently engaged in finding other ways to help make their future lives better. Some were finding out ways to construct more replicators, so that they would not have to farm and grub in the dirt for food, though they still studied farming, just in case.

Those skilled in medicine were catching up on the newest treatments, in case of injury, or if something went horribly wrong. Accidents were not unheard of, and even with their enhanced healing abilities, it was still possible to lose an arm or a leg in an extreme situation. The medical team was preparing for that sort of thing, in case there was a battle with Starfleet over the ship, and were also studying how to meddle with their genetics, so that they would be better able to handle their future livelihoods (if they ever came about).

But while his people worked, Khan considered how he was going to persuade Ria to join him. She barely knew him, after all, and still did not trust him completely, so simply asking her to come with him on a dangerous journey was out of the question. She might like him, vaguely, but not enough to take his offer.

Now there was the complication of James Kirk and the _Enterprise_ crew. Ria would undoubtedly trust them far more than him, simply based on the fact that they were members of Starfleet. Everyone knew that Starfleet had only the best and brightest, and that there was a drive in them to do what was right. Their loyalty to their captains, their ships, and fellow crew members were legendary, and partially why so many alien races had decided to enroll in that noble profession. What could Khan offer in comparison?

* * *

Damn Kirk and his interfering! Khan had no doubt that Kirk had been the one to inform Ria of the civilian division of Starfleet, and now part of his planning was being thrown into chaos!

Merely kidnapping her was out of the question, nor could he lure her to the warehouse where his crew was. His only option was to transport her aboard the ship they commandeered from Starfleet, and once she was aboard, it would be too late to rescue her.

'_Yes, but the problem with that idea is that by the time we find the ideal ship, Ria might not be on Earth_.' If Kirk had his way, Ria would be decently trained in a short amount of time; once that happened, she would be found a ship to be put on, and that would put her out of Khan's hands.

'_I could still find her. With our superior_ _weaponry, we would stand on equal footing with a Federation ship, even on a derelict vessel_.' However, there was only so much one could do when it came to fixing up 'old baggage.'

Well, he would think of something –he always did.

* * *

"I'm so glad you understand, John," Ria told him half an hour later, as they made to part ways. "I'll try and see if I can see you in a few weeks or so, though. I hope that's alright?"

In a way, he was both glad and uneasy with their parting. He did not want to go too long without seeing her, but he was happy that he wouldn't have to listen to her talk about Starfleet for some time. He was careful not to say that, of course.

"It's perfectly alright, Ria," he assured her. Inside, however, he felt like strangling Kirk and the _Enterprise_ crew with his bare hands.

She gave him a brilliant smile, an act that shocked him greatly. No one had ever smiled like that at him before, not in his whole life; those he'd ruled had always been too afraid to give a real smile, and those who served him as servants only smiled whenever he hinted that he wanted them to. His people smiled, but not often, and when they did, it was not so genuinely or happily.

"Thank you, John. I so very much appreciate this."

With another smile, she was gone, leaving Khan wondering why a small thrilling sensation was burning in his chest.

* * *

"So, let's start with the basics," Uhura said, handing me what looked like a sleek, modernized pistol. "Now, this is a training phaser, so it won't do much beyond deliver harmless light blasts. If it were an active weapon, there would be several settings you could choose from, such as stun and maximum stun."

I swallowed harshly. "Does it kill?" I quietly asked, my stomach in a knot as I stared at the weapon in my hand.

This was the first time that doubt was beginning to settle in, and the idea that I might be responsible for taking another living creature's life made me feel sick. The only things I'd ever killed were spiders and little insects –killing something humanoid was something else entirely.

Uhura gave a solemn nod. "There is a kill setting, but we don't use it unless absolutely necessary. In most instances, a simple stun setting can get the job done: a minimal stun will incapacitate a person and have them on the ground, while a maximum stun can render a person unconscious for hours."

She gestured towards the training weapon in my possession. "But a training phaser will only shoot light, though I could set it for a short energy burst that can stop a person for a few seconds."

Swallowing hard, I nodded. "So what do I do now?"

"The typical phaser on a starship is set for stun," she explained, nodding towards the far wall of the large room we stood in. "In this exercise, circles of light will form and move around the wall in front of you. Your objective is to aim and shoot as many lights as possible. They'll start slow, but go faster as you progress. Is that clear?"

Nodding again, I took a deep breath and readied the phaser, waiting for the exercise to start. For a moment, there was silence, and nothing happened –until Uhura came up and began adjusting my stance and grip. I bit back a groan as I realized how silly I must have looked before I'd even had my first practice shot.

After a minute, she stepped back. "Alright, now we can start."

* * *

"So, how'd it go with Lieutenant Uhura?" Lydia asked over dinner, eyes filled with concern.

I groaned and went face down on the table, my arm preventing me from cracking my skull on the silver-and-gold metal. She laughed and reached to pat the back of my head. "Come on; it couldn't have been that bad!"

"She actually wasn't that bad," Uhura said as the others chuckled. "She's no better or worse than most people who start the course at the Academy. When it comes to handling weaponry, being average is pretty decent."

"Hey, that's a high compliment, coming from her," Dr. McCoy whispered into my ear as he patted my shoulder. "She's a sharp-tongued woman, and getting on her good side is a tough job in and of itself."

"I heard that," Uhura sharply told him from across the table, where she was seated next to Commander Spock, who sat to Lydia's right.

Dr. McCoy winced and shook my shoulder, causing me to look up. "Come on; have a drink and something to eat. You look like you need it!"

I sighed and took a sip of my bottle of hard cider. Tonight, instead of a fancy restaurant, we were in a cozy little eatery by the water. There was loud music coming from up the street, the alcohol was flowing, and the place smelled heavenly –no doubt due to the kitchen producing non-stop batches of real, hand-breaded and -cooked Southern fried chicken. Since the place only served chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, and corn on the cob, we were simply waiting for the staff to bring out large serving platters of the stuff.

When the food was served, I picked up a drumstick and bit into the savory meat. After that first bite, I joined everyone in devouring all the food in sight. It was fantastic, and didn't take long for our group to clean all of the plates, leaving nothing but bones and chewed down corn cobs.

"Better?" Bones asked, giving me an amused look over the top of his bottle of beer.

I nodded, the alcohol and hearty food causing me to relax and let my troubles go for a little bit. They also made it easier to accept Dr. McCoy's nickname and actually call him by it, at least in my head.

"Good," he declared, slouching into his seat. "Now, I'd like to give you a few lessons in basic medicine tomorrow." Turning towards Lydia, he asked, "Has she had all her vaccinations yet?"

"I'm pretty sure Lydia gave me all my shots," I said, rubbing my arms at the memories.

She hadn't given me all of my shots at once, but even distributed over weeks and months, there had been a lot of them. I swear, if they hadn't invented a hypo-spray to inject shots painlessly (except for the barest sensation of pressure against the skin), my upper arms would probably still be in pain!

Bones simply grinned. "Not quite. You'll need several more before you're allowed into any sort of official training program, and a few others before actually heading out into space."

That just made me groan all over again, causing Bones to gently pat my shoulder. "Don't worry. I know it's putting the cart before the horse, but I'd rather you were safe than sorry."

"Then, when you're done, we can do a few more sessions in firearms, followed by lessons in ship technology," Uhura chimed in, smiling broadly.

'_Why, oh why had I agreed to this torture_?' I asked myself as Jim gave me a teasing grin. I threw him a look that said he was going to pay for this, but he merely shrugged his shoulders and raised his beer to me in a mock 'cheers.'

That was when Uhura dumped her half-empty glass of water over Jim's head, causing everyone except Spock to laugh. After sputtering a few curse words, Jim joined in, with Lydia and I offering him some napkins to dry off with.

All-in-all, not a bad way to end the night…even though tomorrow promised to be a hell of a day.

* * *

AN: Review?


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